He would need a bigger flask
by Meg Dani
Summary: Co-authored by ElvenHeart993 Each year Haymitch returned two bodies to devastated families-a job that would take its toll on the hardest of hearts. For 24 years all the Victor knew to do was drown his sorrows in whiskey and build up the walls thicker and thicker around his heart each year. What will happen to those walls when he finds someone just as alone as him?
1. Chapter 1

**Co-Authored by Elvenheart993**

This is a prequel in two parts, the rest is in the process of being written and edited. Reviews are welcomed and appreciated!

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Effie Trinket's shoulders were stiff and drawn back to perfect her posture, and her back felt like a broomstick had been inserted to keep it straight. One ankle was tucked behind the other and her hands were gripped tightly in her lap as her worried blue eyes remained riveted on the screen in the District 12 apartment. Swallowing hard, Effie willed herself not to look at the people around her as she waited for the games to begin.

Another year...but this time they had better chances, maybe this one would be different. Five years of working with Haymitch Abernathy, of putting up with the insults, the rages, the drunken stupors, and the blame...now she waited while Haymitch delivered the poor dears to their death, every muscle in her body tense and every inch of her clammy with nerves. They needed one year to be different.

They were gone. Katniss and Peeta were gone. Haymitch sent them off after hearing them promise once more that they would not run for the Cornucopia. The Tributes said that every year, and every year at least one blasted tribute risked it and usually died doing it. This boy would keep his word though, Haymitch could see that in his eyes, he was an honest kid. The girl might keep her word too. At least she might intend to, but if she was anything like him, which Haymitch knew she was, she'd probably go for it.

He was sober-too much for his liking, but he had to be in order to safely see them off. Tensions were always the highest now, for everyone. As Haymitch stepped into the elevator, he leaned his head back against the cool glass and clenched and unclenched his fingers almost anxiously. They'd all be in the tubes by now, and Haymitch felt uncannily like it was him again. The glass elevator back up the penthouse was horribly like the tubes to the pedestals. The Victor pulled the silver flask out of his coat, downing half the burning contents in one and all but kicking the door back open.

"Started yet?"

Effie's body jerked suddenly as Haymitch's rough voice broke the silence as he prowled back into the apartment. Her usually bright and sparkling smile was no where to be found, it was all she could do to repress the stress induced tremble that was creeping out from her spin to her fingers and knees.

Slowly, she shook her purple-wigged head and blinked, "No, any second now, though."

To her left, Cinna and Portia, the two stylists sat together, Portia in the proper posture for a dress and Cinna leaning forward with his arms on his knees. They said nothing, all eyes on the screen. Finally music played and the screens opened to the field revealing a giant cornucopia filled to over flowing with supplies and weapons. Several yards away, twenty-four platforms were in a line and slowly the twenty-four tributes rose above the ground. Effie's heart raced, the inevitable dread and guilt washing over her in waves. She called their names, she brought them to this...Now they would have to fight for their lives.

"Please..." She mouthed the word silently.

"Half of 'em." Haymitch grunted, stepping over the low back of the couch and all but throwing himself between Cinna and Effie, the contents of the open flask swishing audibly. He had a habit of predicting how many people would die in the first bloodbath, usually about half. On his right, Effie squeaked, tearing her eyes away from the screen, frowning up at him.

"Haymitch, really!"

He ignored her. The countdown was on, forty seconds now. He took another swig, silently screaming at both District 12s to just run for the trees, high ground and water is all they needed. Not that he was the best example. He'd run, but he'd known he was fast enough to make it and get away before anyone else left the pedestals. Those two weren't.

_Thirty._ Everyone was silent. At least this lot seemed to have souls. New stylists, he didn't mind Cinna and Portia, at least they didn't insist on the tributes going naked. That had happened one year.

_Fifteen._ His knuckles went white on the flask, the nails on his other hand digging into his palm, it was the worst part. He always felt more like a failure than normal if they died on the first day.

The countdown sounded off at ten, the numbers flashing over the screen, super imposed over the video of the children who stood tense and afraid. Her eyes softened again in pity as the camera fell on a particularly small girl with dark skin and curly hair. Effie suddenly had to fight back tears, blinking rapidly as she cleared her throat and looked down at her lap, her skirt in dire need of smoothing out.

_Three..._

_Two..._

_One..._

They ran. It was always such a fray and people leapt at each other so horribly it was near impossible to tell where one tribute ended and another began, let alone find your own. But then the camera cut to a throat and blood...when had that guy even gotten the knife? That was fast...

Peeta was running, Haymitch let himself breathe out in relief. At least one got away. Now where was Katniss? He could see her in the background making a run for it, until she stopped.

"Damnit, girl!" Haymitch swore, but his voice was missing the normally harsh and biting tones as he watched the teen running back for the items.

He swore again, slamming one foot off the table and onto the floor, grunting and drowning in another swig of liquor, reveling in the distracting burning.

His brows met as the cameras flashed to one of the other tributes catching sight of her, returning the bite to his voice as he growled out again. "Stupid girl!"

He was done. Twenty-three years of nothing but bringing home bodies and nightmares and watching people die. He was so very, very done. It was enough. One of the women yelped, he couldn't tell which, and cast a glare around at everyone in turn. Even Cinna looked the same, staring at Haymitch in alarm, he'd never dealt with him before.

A knife, a dead boy on top of Katniss and then..."Oh, thank God..." She was all right.

Effie met Haymitch's glare full on, her painted eyes flashing indignantly as he even dared glare at the two new stylists. They didn't know what to expect from him, and when Haymitch went into one of his rages-that he inevitably went into every year-it was Effie that had to bring him down from it. That meant keeping herself between him and any unfortunate moving target that might catch his eye. Everyone else was typically too scared of him to intervene. Effie knew better, he was a beast, but he had never raised a hand to her and something told Effie he never would. It didn't make anything easier, though.

A particularly jumpy camera drew her attention back to the screen and she yelped, covering her mouth with one hand and standing to her feet in a rush of alarm. Katniss...The boy was dead...a knife in his back...Katniss pinned beneath him...that all too familiar constriction twisted at her heart and Effie was about to excuse herself until the body moved and Katniss struggled out from under it.

Effie sank back down onto the couch, her knees giving way in relief. "Thank goodness..."

Katniss ran, she grabbed a bag and she ran and Effie finally smiled, placing a hand over her racing heart. "They're all right."

They got away, that very rarely happened in the bloodbath. They both got out of there, and Katniss managed a bag. Haymitch was quietly proud of her, not that he'd ever say it aloud if he could avoid it, some other girl had taken the bow, now just to hope she wasn't as good with it as Katniss was.

He stared steely back at Effie and dropped heavily back onto the couch, so beginning the potentially very short annual tradition of all but living on the couch, glued to the screen until both his tributes inevitably died. It was either that, or spend time getting cleaned up in remotely neater clothes and trying to get sponsors, something Haymitch was actually keen to do this year.

A mutual sigh of relief among the four of them and everybody sat back, temporarily satisfied that the kids might live longer than they thought. The camera was back to the bloodshed and gore, kids killing each other...something Haymitch had become disturbingly immune to, it didn't bother him outwardly anymore. Inwardly? It sure as hell did, but not outwardly. Finally he grunted and swilled the last dregs of...was it bourbon? He didn't even remember only knew it tasted good.

Damn the Capitol, damn them all! Putting people, families, kids, through this for seventy four years...no one, not even the Career victors, were the same when they came out of the Games. They would never be again.

"She's smart." Cinna finally spoke, his eyes resting predominantly on Haymitch, flicking back to the screen every so often. Like he was trying to tell Haymitch that, ha!

"I'm quite aware of that, best damn chance." Didn't matter, either way he was taking one body back, had to watch another family sob and scream and glare at him. But at least it wasn't two.

Effie smacked her lips loudly as she stood. "Haymitch, manners! Honestly..."Effie cleared her throat and allowed the relief she felt for the kids making it safely away to return the smile to her face. She clapped her hands together under her chin and grinned at each of the three people with her in turn.

With a low growl of frustration aimed entirely at the escort, Haymitch leapt back over the couch the way he'd gotten onto it without the slightest care in the world for any 'manners', trying to ignore the incessant tapping of five million inch heels and leaving both stylists on the couch.

"Well, that was exciting, wasn't it?" She crooned as she fluffed the puffs of her sleeves. "Now we simply cheer them on and send them goodies! It's our turn to do some running and get these dears some sponsors!"

Haymitch rubbed a hand over his stubbled face. He definitely needed another drink. Not that it was a statement, the alcoholic always needed another drink, and he was definitely going to get one. Typical.

Her high heels pocked upon the floor as she crossed the room with an airy grace to take up her jacket. It wasn't on the coat rack where she left it, and part of the escort was grateful for that. She turned to face the group,

"I'm going to get my coat and then head out to rub elbows with the citizens and see if I can't find anyone interested in our little wonders!"

With a wave, she swept from the room and her smile instantly vanished as soon as she was half way down the hall. There would be no way of saving her dignity if she waited a moment more. Just a few more seconds and Effie would have been crying her makeup into a state of atrocity and she couldn't have that.

Of course Effie would, the little princess was just like the rest of them. Chipper, smiling, clueless and seeing everything through rose coloured glasses. Everything about her that he could see irked him to no end. Cheer them on indeed, that was a wonderful idea.

"That'll solve everything, princess!"

Yes, he was rude. Haymitch Abernathy was not a nice person most of the time and more often than not he was drunk. It was perfectly clear when he was being genuinely nice and civil. But still, he wanted the kids to have the best chance they could, earning even a little money could make a massive difference. Just one match could save a life; or end one.

As soon as Effie made it to her room, she hurried inside and then closed the door behind her, leaning against it as the tears came. They came hard, and she wasn't even sure why. Katniss and Peeta were alive, they hadn't died like every other year...yet.

She had grown a little closer to these two than she normally did, something about them had stolen her heart and her normal defenses of playing the oblivious, selfish Capitol woman just didn't seem to be working-Peeta had charmed her and Katniss had made her want to beg the girl for forgiveness. Effie held her stomach with one hand as it cramped against her weeping, covering her mouth with the other to stifle the sobs that shook her entire frame. She hated this. She felt like an executioner and she wanted it to stop, she just wanted it to stop.

Effie resurfaced from the tearful stay in her room about twenty minutes later with new makeup and a freshly curled wig. The other wig had been torn away while she cried before and was far too much of a mess to be worn again today. Sighing, she prepared herself to face whatever mood Haymitch would be in when she met him and pock-pocked back into the main living area on her six inch heels.

"Well, then!" She said in her bubbly tones, though the evidence of tears were still there.

"Now that we know they're well, we should seriously set our minds to finding sponsors! I already have two meetings scheduled, one today and one tomorrow." She balanced over to the counter where Haymitch was preparing another drink, eyeing him with a 'tisk' and shaking her head.

"You'll need to be at least partially sober, and more than partially cleaned up. We're having dinner with a doctor."

As far as Haymitch was concerned, things were about as good as he could hope for in the arena, after the initial bloodbath had finally passed, he knew both his tributes to be alive and that Peeta had taken off toward water like he'd said. The camera's were focussing on the careers now. Their greedy feasting on any supply or weapon the cornucopia had to offer, kicking the bodies aside like they were dead cats.

He glanced up momentarily and back down again, slopping the clear liquid messily into a glass. The unmistakeable tap-tap was back and annoying him a little more than usual.

"What? Should be used to it, princess." He grunted, resisting the urge to mimic her 'tisk' and finally lifting his grey eyes up. Sober? Nah, he'd have to say no to that.

Half to aggrevate Effie and half because he wanted it, Haymitch switched the glass for the bottle, taking a long swig and blinking several times, all but daring her to stop him.

"Don't need no doctor. Yes I know what you mean... 'll bear it in mind."

"It's not a doctor for you, Haymitch!" She ground out as she slipped onto a stool with a graceful crossing of one leg over the other. "He's one of the richest men in Panem. If we manage to obtain his sponsorship, the children will be set for the games."

Watching him guzzle from the bottle, she rolled her eyes. "And really! Can't you at LEAST finish what you have in the glass, first? That was expensive and you're downing it like an animal at a watering hole!"

Cinna and Portia remained on the couch, eyes widening at the inevitable fight to come as it always did. Tensions were high, had been for days...but these two were like a ticking time bomb. How on earth they hadn't managed to be reassigned yet was beyond the stylists' comprehension.

"I'd have requested a transfer before now if I were her..." Portia muttered under her breath as she busied herself with checking her nails.

Haymitch rolled his eyes, glaring at the ceiling and pulling the bottle back, smacking his lips. There was the manners stuff again, it might be the thing he hated most about her, the nagging for manners and hygiene and courtesy. None of them were up his alley. Leaning over, still noticeably taller despite the ridiculous heels she wore, he glowered, nose to her forehead and barely restraining himself from poking her to be the most annoying he could. But to be remotely fair, she was actually, in a round about way, asking him to drink MORE.

"Fine then, princess. Loosen your corset it's not like either of us are short on change."

Effie cringed, her nose wrinkling as he breathed out close to her face, turning her nose to one side. Barely ten in the morning and he already wreaked of alcohol, at least, that's the reason she told herself she cringed. He had a knack for making her uncomfortable, the way he always scrutinized her appearance made her feel like the ugliest creature on the planet and from this distance, Effie was certain he would be able to tell she had been crying.

He stayed there for another moment, critically darting his eyes over every inch of the thick makeup, from lipstick to false eyelashes. That was everything opposite to him, everything he stood so adamantly against. Not failing to notice the faint lines down her face that meant Effie had, in fact, been crying again. The mentor leaned back, snatching up his glass again and downing it in two gulps, pinky out for good measure.

"I'm not wearin-Ugh! You're _so_ rude! I fully intend to pay for whatever they need, but sponsors will help them in the eyes of the Gamekeepers. The more sponsors they have, the safer they are you oaf!" She dropped to her feet from the stool, keeping her balance on her high heels from sheer practice alone.

It was true that they could never go more than five words civilly to one another, each thought just the same of the other, equally disgusted. He flashed a toothy grin over to Portia and Cinna, both of whom offered a very uneasy smile in return. But...it was the only occasions he ever allowed himself to look half decent for...or at least, not like a slobbering, drunken idiot, that came later in the night. Cinna ducked a little lower on the couch, motioning for Portia to get out of here or get her head lower, too. When Haymitch and Effie fought, things usually went flying.

"Oaf, am I? That's original, well done, you think of it yourself?"

He knew that, he well and truly knew that sponsors may make all the difference, but they weren't always helpful. He'd barely gotten any for himself, and since then he'd barely gotten any for any tributes he mentored. Snatching up the bottle again, dangling the neck between two fingers precariously, Haymitch leaned back, crossing one ankle over the other. Nobody's attention was on the screen anymore, which just so happened to have flicked back to Caesar Flickerman and...whatever the other man's name was, Haymitch never bothered to remember, both in lively chatter about the goings on. This wasn't anything different, they fought, he broke things usually, but this was quite mild. If either of the tributes had just been killed, it would be far more intense, the rage Haymitch flew into every year would have started early. Today he felt a wee bit more relaxed, not civil, just calmer.

"I actually meant this bottle, sweetheart, by the way. Don't you be ordering me to wash anytime soon, it's not even noon."

White and purple makeup creased in the corners of her eyes as Effie struggled to bite her tongue and keep from saying anything that would escalate this little exchange into more of a heated discussion. Haymitch Abernathy was impossible, and as far as he was concerned, Effie was the embodiment of the Capitol, everything about her a physical representation of what he hated.

He couldn't know how his harsh words and disgusted looks cut her to the quick...no way of knowing how secretly Effie both feared and hated the Capitol just as much as he did. He couldn't know, and he probably never would.

...Effie hated him. Or at least she wished she did. It would be so much easier if she hated him. As it stood, Effie found herself starving for his approval and hating herself for it. She knew why he hated her, she understood but no matter how hard she wanted, or how hard she tried it would never change. The sparkle in her eyes flickered briefly and she suddenly found an invisible piece of lint on her lap very fascinating.

"Just know we have to be at the restaurant by seven sharp."


	2. Chapter 2

Edited and slightly revised.

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Later that evening, they returned to the apartment complex, Effie chattering away in hushed tones next to him as she matched his steps. What did it matter? They'd probably lost the sponsorship, couldn't she just shut up? But, oh no. That would be too easy. Instead, she chided him for lack of decorum throughout half of the evening. It might have been a mistake showing up with tainted breath, twenty minutes late and on his way to being tipsy but there was nothing they could do about it now.

"Are you even capable of closing your mouth for two minutes?" He snapped, cutting her off and tilting his empty flask with an air of disappointment while leaning heavily against the doors of the elevator.

Shouldn't have told the waiter not to stare, shouldn't have asked the sponsor what he did for a living, shouldn't have drunk so much wine, shouldn't have breathed! The unmistakeable chime broke him out of his brooding thoughts and the doors opened, sending Haymitch staggering back and into the other wall. All right, maybe he was slightly drunk. Effie rolled her eyes and made a click of distaste with her tongue, not even bothering to try and catch him from staggering as she glided from the elevator. Let him fall on his arse, that's where he belonged as far as she was concerned after the way he behaved tonight.

"Yes, I can. However, I intend to speak as much as I like just to make your life as difficult and unpleasant as I possible can." She flounced passed him and keyed in the lock code for the door to their District penthouse, turning to him with her most sarcastically apologetic face. Placing her gloved fingers over her lips, Effie gasped, "Oh, wait. I'm getting our jobs reversed again."

Haymitch sneered, waving her off with a wobbly hand. "I know! I know!"

When were there two Effies? His head was swimming, and he loved it. Then the two pink women shakily moved back into one and Haymitch cringed, casting a glazed eye up and down her like he was seeing her for the first time that evening. One hand reached blindly up to loosen the constricting tie he'd been forced into, the only one he owned over the...not exactly crisp but still moderately white shirt, he motioned from her to the door.

"You're gonna...door."

With a stomp of her dainty foot, the pink wigged, flower clad woman stormed into the flat and very seriously considered slamming the door in his face. As soon as she was inside, Effie began tugging at the fingers of her gloves, peeling them off her pale white hands as she cocked her hip to one side, curves accentuated by her very high heels.

"You know, you could at least try to act like a human being! It was a formal dinner, Haymitch! With one of the richest men in the Capitol! He visits President Snow on the weekends for tea!" She slapped one glove down on the counter and tried tugging the other off just to find it stuck on a ring she wore on her finger over the glove. With an irritated gasp, she pulled at the ring until it came free then slipped the glove off after it, keeping it clenched in her fingers as she plopped her hands down on her hips.

"...don't care." Haymitch blinked, the wall supporting his full weight for a good few moments before daring to sidle his way haphazardly into the penthouse. His hand hurt like he'd hit something, not that he had any hope of remembering what, probably the table.

How dare she tell him how to act? Again! That was just going to make him act up more and get even drunker intentionally just to annoy her. The man hadn't seemed very nice, and he'd dared to start talking against Katniss, saying she had a horrible attitude and it would take a lot of convincing to sponsor a girl like was when Haymitch had given up his poor attempts to remain sober and spent the better half of the evening trotting too and from the bar with various drinks.

"He was a pig anywaysh, princeshesh...'nother drink..."

Ignoring the woman whose face had by now gone naturally pink from anger, the mentor made a beeline for the little bar, surprisingly steady. The large television of a wall still alive, the hosts' lips moving silently as they mutedly showed the replays of the day, and the faces of the dead streaming briefly across the screen.

Effie was positively shaking with rage. Did he take nothing seriously? "Must you insist upon calling me that? My name is Effie. EFFIE."

She shook her head with a growl and kicked off her painfully high-heeled shoes, wincing as her tendons popped and her feet ached once they were flat on the floor, making her considerably shorter than him. He was making a line for the drinks and Effie closed her eyes, silently telling herself not to throw a shoe at him.

"And do you ever stop drinking? I mean, really! What good will you be to Katniss and Peeta if you're drunk off your head?" She stood again, her brow creased as her feet continued to ache, making it so she had to stand still for a few seconds before she could cross over to him at the bar.

He grunted, leaning heavily over the small counter and dug a bottle out from under it, staring at it cross eyed for a moment as though hoping it would pop open by itself.

No, no he didn't stop if he could help it. It was just so much more bearable to be at least tipsy 90% of the time, and now Peeta and Katniss were...dare he say...safe in the Games, he didn't have to worry about staying sober to train them. Peeta was the only person to interfere with his drinking in a long time, everyone else knew better.

"Smart kids...look, they ain't dead yet..." He growled, lifting his eyes up and drunkenly pointing at the screen, the names of thirteen tributes were there, and none were from District 12.

Effie growled, he was hardly paying attention, too focussed on drowning himself to see her point. "You can't just give up at the slightest sign of opposition! Just because they didn't seem interested right off, doesn't mean they wouldn't be later!"

She had to dig in and get to the point while he was at least conscious. "They say things like that, they point out the negatives in order to play the game...its their own way of being part of it and its a necessary part we have to play ourselves if we're going to ever have a victor to take back to 12!"

It wasn't opening, his hand kept slipping off the cap, smashing into the bar and skinning his knuckles which he barely noticed, instead resorted to tapping the bottle on the edge, a little harder than he ought to. Okay, he wasn't so drunk not to understand what Effie was saying, not so drunk he couldn't hear her, a level he counted incredibly drunk.

"I know that, shweetheart! 'nd I do know that...Capi...capitolian's kin'..." The bottle cap let out an unmistakeable click that Haymitch could recognize a mile away, and chipped off. "...bout time."

That did it. Effie was quite fed up with this entire little charade. Sure, Effie knew he'd been through hell, though, not exactly what that meant. She hadn't seen a replay of his games yet, barely knew anything about him-but part of her couldn't be sure if she wasn't happy with it like that. Part of her didn't want to know.

She padded barefooted over to him and snatched the bottle form his clumsy hands. "Now, listen! It's nearly one in the morning. No more of this, you'll be more useless than usual, just go to bed."

She jabbed her finger toward his room and dodged when he made a sloppy snatch for her. Haymitch rolled his shoulders, taking a swig from the open bottle and bringing it down slowly, taking his time to swallow as though analyzing the taste, which he sort of was, but his throat seemed to have forgotten how to swallow for a moment.

Finally he blinked, eyes glazed over drunkenly and staring in Effie's general direction, trying to keep one eye on the swirling woman who was...getting closer? Yeah...too close. With a strangled yelp that sounded to him like a dying cat, Haymitch made a grab for the bottle as it disappeared. No. Nobody took his liquor. Sure enough, the escort was in front of him, considerably shorter and more determined than ever, his bottle in her nail polished hand.

" 'scuse me? You tellin' me what to do?"

"Someone has to talk some sense into you! This is ridiculous, Haymitch! Foolish!"

Effie's mouth went dry and her throat felt as though it had shrunk three sizes, but she was determined to hold her ground. She swallowed dryly as he glared at her, holding out a hand for the bottle. He suddenly seemed much bigger than her as she stood looking up at him, her bare feet glued to the cold tile floor of the kitchen area.

All at once, he sobered a little, enough to glare menacingly at the woman and hold out a steady hand expectantly.

"One chance, sweetheart. Give it back."

She shook her head slowly, licked at her dry lips and backed away from him. "No, you have to get yourself under control...for more reasons than just Katniss and Peeta. You're going to kill yourself at this rate! Look at yourself!" One chance? Was that meant to be a threat? She was getting closer to the sink, "Believe it or not I don't want to stand around watching you slowly drown yourself, Haymitch!" She shouted.

He snarled low, grey eyes flashing dangerously. He got angry more times than he cared to count but he'd never tried to hurt Effie, just...scare her a bit. He shouldn't be this angry logically, there wasn't exactly a shortage of alcohol in here, but it was really the fact that she was coming between him and the one thing he genuinely loved anymore.

"I don't care, princess!"

So what if he died drinking? Haymitch was pretty certain that would be the way he did die anyway. He wasn't suicidal or anything but he simply didn't care what happened to him. He hated life most of the time and his liver had long gone to hell, it was best to just be indifferent.

"Don't you even think about it..."

Effie's confidence flickered briefly, her pulse pounding in her throat but it was too late to turn back now. He loomed over her, towered, and the only thing keeping him from just grabbing her was the fear he had that she would dump the contents of the bottle. He may not care, but she certainly did, whether he knew that or not. She was beside the sink now, and the anger had long since left her face, replaced with fear she couldn't hide, mixed with determination that kept her going. He stepped closer, and Effie shook her head.

"I care, Haymitch!" She declared, he was too drunk to remember anyway. "I'd be your friend if you let me, but you insist on being this beast of a man that rages at the world! Those children need you, and what are you doing?"

She motioned with her chin at his person. "You can barely stand up straight! Five years! For five years I've tried to close my eyes to this and just not care, but I do! But the only thing you care about is yourself and this!" With that final word she slammed the glass bottle into the stainless steel sink and flinched away, covering her face instinctively with a yelp as it shattered.

She was afraid of him, she was always afraid of him and with perfectly justified reasoning. He took one more step and she held the bottle precariously over the sink. How would she like it if he did the same with her powders and nail polish?

They were almost nose to nose now, enough for Haymitch to have to really look down to hold her gaze menacingly, one hand moving up slowly to make an unexpected grab for the liquor. Friend? He didn't need friends, especially not one from the Capitol whom he could barely stand the rose perfume of.

Everything was blurring randomly, he lost the middle part of sentences and that was a sure sign he was going to pass out fairly soon. He wanted that bottle back.

"...stand up straight!"

Too late, the moment his hand made a grab for it, she dropped the bottle...and he reflexively turned away from the shattered glass, letting out a cry of his own as though it had been one of his limbs she's just smashed. A nearly animalistic roar followed and he clenched his hands into fists, forcing himself away from her and hitting the hall with all the strength in his hand.

"Damn it, woman!"

Haymitch Abernathy with withdrawals was never, never a pretty sight. He was angrier than normal and completely throwing down any small amount of regard for Effie's feelings he kicked over one of the stools violently. He wouldn't physically hurt her, though morals weren't an issue with Haymitch, he hated the idea of hitting women when he was drunk.

Effie flinched again, violently, and stumbled back away from him as he flew into the inevitable rage she knew he would. Her hands and arms jerked, cringing up to shield herself as he whirled and punched the wall...that would hurt tomorrow...and then he kicked the stool and sent it flying...it hit a small table and shattered a vase. Effie was trembling, this was worse than she had ever seen him before and she regretted breaking the bottle. Without another word he stormed out, nearly stumbling into the wall, and down toward his room, letting the door slam behind him.

She stood there for what felt like hours, lip trembling, body shaking, and silent tears trailing down her cheeks until she finally turned to the sink and started to carefully pick the glass out of it, cutting her hand in the process. Gasping, Effie gripped the wound and finally let herself cry properly, turning and sinking down with her back against the cupboard until she was on the floor, her nerves shot as she let all her stress come out in tears.

He couldn't help it, the moment the door closed, Haymitch doubled over, biting his lip and holding his hand to his chest, the dull pain beginning to throb through his knuckles. His head was swimming and he had to fight not to pass out on the spot. Nobody touched Haymitch's liquor, no matter how much more there was, especially not when he was drunk, that woman was...that was the most annoying thing she'd ever done.

As it seemed he barely made it to the obscenely large penthouse bed, head throbbing and wanting more than ever to forget everything. For the possibility of sleep, however brief, to actually be reality for one torturous hour.

_He was sixteen again, it was always like this, always...the horrible Capitol accents chirping, his mother's hysterical sobbing, telling Aiden to take care of her, that he'd come back and take care of them both again._

_This was mild, Haymitch could deal with this, he had almost every night...it was everything that came after that scared him to death. Blood, the sounds of the careers dying at his hand, how blank he'd felt about the whole thing...Maysilee..._

_He was running now, and he felt forty in a sixteen year old body, he was really...he heard Maysilee's screams as the birds killed her, felt her blood on his hands...felt the axe in his belly. One hand twitched on the mattress, reflexively delving under his pillow without waking and gripping the handle of the knife that rested there._

_His fault. His fault. It was his fault he felt Sienna's blood run cold, and had to bury his own mother. They were telling him that, everyone...the gamemakers. Snow. The people in the District. It was Haymitch Abernathy's fault..._

"Nngh!"

The knife hit the fabric with a dull thud next to Haymitch's head. He lay draped over the bed, his torso half off the mattress at an awkward angle as his eyes opened in the same wild panic they always did.

The next morning dawned as it always did, just like nothing had happened. Effie had not bothered using any cream or tonic for the cut on her hand. It was a decent gash, but when she went to take care of it, all she could think was what the tributes were faced with every day of the games and she settled for simply wrapping her hand and slipping on a pair of silk gloves to hide the bandage. Now she stood in the lounge area, sipping from a fresh mug of coffee and watching the screen for any signs of Katniss or Peeta.

It had come as a shock to her when Peeta took up with Cato and the careers, and Effie's heart went out to poor Katniss. How it must feel to be abandoned by one's partner at the last minute and hunted...Effie shuddered and gripped her mug, wincing as it made the gash on her hand sting.

...Then it happened. Fire. It was everywhere and Katniss was running. It blocked her off, she turned, she ducked, she dived, then she fell down a hill and rolled. Effie's heart leapt to her throat.

"Haymitch!" She set the coffee down on the table and sank down on the couch. "Haymitch, get in here!" Haymitch was doubled over the sink in the bathroom, groaning to himself and fighting off fits of nausea, the faucet running, sending ice-cold water over his head whenever he moved.

After twenty-three years hangovers didn't get much easier, and the immunity Haymitch had assumed he'd built up was dashed on the rocks again. Finally his stomach gave another heave and the worst of it was over.

He'd spent the best part of the night between the bathroom and staring at the ceiling from his bed, wide awake and uncomfortably aware of the sounds outside his room, and the altogether stifling silence inside it.

Finally, running a towel over his face and feeling like curling up and dying, Haymitch pushed himself off the sink, squinting his eyes against the irritating brightness of the day...until he was summoned.

Oh God...Katniss and Peeta, he hadn't checked on them...but his head was ringing and screaming just to fall back on the pillow and smother himself. No, Haymitch, tributes.

He let out a breath, dragging himself and trying to make himself look a little less hungover, and a little more confident.

"What...oh hell..."

The fire was on her heels and Effie stiffened every so often as if mentally struggling with a reflexive urge to attempt reaching through the screen to pull Katniss out of the way as the fire chased the girl and herded her the way she should go. A tree nearly fell on her and Effie yelped, covering her mouth with one gloved hand, wincing as she made the gash hurt.

She dropped her hand into her lap, flexing the fingers as the gash throbbed through the glove. Then Katniss fell and rolled down the hill, tumbling passed trees and rocks, missing them by inches until she came to a sliding halt at the base of the hill. For a split second, Effie thought it was over, that she was safe for now...and then the fire was back with a vengeance, this time with flaming balls flying at the poor girl.

Effie couldn't help it, she looked up at Haymitch for some sort of reassurance, some word for him to shout at the screen...anything, and then a scream from the television tore her gaze back as Katniss clutched her leg, crying out against a nasty looking burn.

"Oh, no..." Effie was on her feet, "We have to do something, send her something!"

Damn it...that was so early in the game, they never turned nature loose so early on...unless they really didn't like someone. And apparently, Katniss was one of those someones. This wasn't good...fire in a forest was darn near impossible to outrun when it got moving and it was sure moving now...

Hangover forgotten, brow furrowed and eyes fixed determinedly on the screen, Haymitch ignored the look his felt Effie shoot him, his attention focussed solely on his tributes. This one he was more determined than ever to save.

"Come on, sweetheart, just run!

And then the fireballs started and Haymitch winced, half rolling over onto the couch and heavily dropping his feet on the floor. Legs wide apart and an elbow on each knee, he knotted his hands together in front of his mouth, bruised purple knuckles more obvious than ever. As though trying to urge Katniss on with the power of his mind. It didn't work.

He growled and swore, blinking in pain as he watched the sixteen year old kid clutch at her leg. That was not good...it looked quite bad.

"Run..."

At least the girl hadn't curled up in a ball and waited for death, she was still limping on, taking the best path toward the river as the flames slowed down. Effie was right, he had to send her something...but not now, there was time, she would probably miss it and he had to see that she made it to safety.

The Games went on just as they always did, the little team of stylists, along with Haymitch and Effie watching, glued to the screen when they weren't sleeping or Haymitch and Effie weren't screaming at one another. They watched and waited for the inevitable death of one or both children. This year, however, was different. Time after time, chance after chance, the pair from 12 managed to narrowly avoid losing their lives until, finally, it was down to just them.

Their team watched, hardly breathing, Haymitch standing rigid behind the couch, jaw locked and flask in hand, Effie sat just in front of him, trembling wildly, everyone else too filled with dread to move. They waited, minds racing as Haymitch growled and downed a gulp of liquor.

"It'll be her." He began to turn away, but paused as he heard Katniss speak.

_"Together." _

"Nightlock." Haymitch practically spat the word like it was the foulest curse he could come up with. They were smart kids all right. Katniss and Peeta had come up with a way to defy the Capitol, to both make it out alive.

He turned back, his eyes flickering to the pink haired escort who just happened to have looked back at him in that same moment, her blue eyes full of confusion. Just what was happening? The next thing they knew, a hover craft was lowering into the arena and the victors were announced. The lovestruck couple from District 12, the victors, yes, both of them alive, would be returning home. No bodies, no heartbroken families…

Haymitch and Effie looked at each other, and Effie's mouth dropped open. Haymitch could hear his heart pounding, conflicted between relief they had both survived, and the knowledge of what they would face. The Capitol did not take being made a fool of lightly, and that is exactly what the two little brats had done. They'd beaten the Capitol at their own game…And Haymitch knew exactly how that would end. The stylists were hugging, some crying from relief and he saw Effie allowing a smile, though it was clear she was just as concerned as Haymitch was.

In that moment, it dawned on the mentor that he would not be returning to District 12 as he assumed, not yet, anyway, and that meant something he wasn't sure could handle: he would have to live in the company of Effie Trinket for a while longer.

He was going to need a bigger flask.


	3. Chapter 3

The days that followed quickly turned into weeks after the two tributes were returned to their team and examined by healers to see to their injuries. Haymitch was so relieved to have them back that he actually gave them each a hug before downing the contents of his flask to still his shaking hands, giving Effie her chance to smother them in chattering and hugs of her own. Everything passed in a blur of cameras and parties until the two tributes were returned home. Their job was finished for now, giving them opportunity for a well deserved rest and time with their families until the Victor tour before the Quarter Quell six months later.

Haymitch silently scoffed at the thought, recalling his "rest" after his victory. It was no rest, it was torture and paranoia that only-He shuddered with a growl and downed a gulp of amber whiskey, sighing at the comforting familiar burn that chased it as the capitol dandies chattered away around him. He couldn't think about that now. Effie Trinket had dragged him here, insisted she needed him to show his face, and as soon as they arrived she had been whisked away by one of the many outrageously dressed men. That was the first jab of annoyance he had felt, the rest came slowly, one by one…

Even still, Haymitch meandered through the party, attempting to be civil, nursing his drinks slowly and keeping an eye on Effie as best he could. He didn't care for her, no, but he couldn't very well let anything happen to her while he was around to stop it, and this bunch of snakes seemed to have it out for her. He caught the subtle insults, the sneers they sent at her back, the way they whispered, and he didn't like it one bit. Effie knew what they were, she was smart. She knew how to play their games, but as the night wore on, even Effie Trinket's perfect Capitol smile and graces came to an end.

They made it as far as the third course in their meal before her smile began faltering under the shadow of very hurt feelings and betrayal until, finally, she stood from the table asking to be excused. The half drunk Victor let his eyes follow the frilly pink woman out of the dining area with a heavy sigh, pinching his nose between two fingers and reaching for his wine glass at the same time.

"Ah, damn it." He muttered under his breath.

This meant coming back to a crying Effie on the couch, certainly not a situation Haymitch was remotely comfortable with. He wasn't entirely oblivious, he'd dealt with this escort for five years, just about the longest any escort had put up with him, he knew when she was upset. Feigning a headache was fairly telltale now.

Did that mean he could leave though? He really despised these stupid parties full of prissy, stuck up, obsessive Capitol people who seemed insistent on the idea of himself and Effie being together. "Sexual tension" with mentors and escorts and all that crap. But now there was no Effie to force him to stay any longer than this. Without a word to anyone and only a deadly scowl at the back of Crane's head, Haymitch snatched his coat off the coat wrack and stormed out after her.

Haymitch exited the building, glancing around at the dark wet night with a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Of course," He muttered darkly at the rain.

He vaguely remembered Effie bringing an umbrella with them tonight, but she was probably clinging to it as she balanced her way down the street. He grunted. Forget umbrellas, Haymitch preferred the rain, he was rather glad for it and more than used to it, waking up in some corner of the city or the District in the pouring rain. He liked the wet weather.

Tugging his flask out of his jacket, Haymitch let out a long breath and raised it in relief, some little thing to calm him helped immeasurably. She couldn't have gotten far in those stick thin heels, surely, he'd probably pass her on the way.

If she were the type of woman to curse, Effie would be making a herself a rival to a sailor. No more than three steps into the rain and the tears began, she couldn't stop them and another three steps had her completely soaked through. It would be a long, slow walk in these heels to the penthouse...and yet another three steps found her right heel stuck in a drain and snapped in half.

Effie fell to her hands and knees, skinning her shin on the pavement. How could this night get any worse? Her career had always come first, she worked so hard at having the perfect manners and clean life, only to somehow have the worst reputation of the twelve escorts. She tried to be happy, optimistic, make things lighter for the tributes when they were with her, and let that optimism influence the other escorts to maybe make things easier for their tributes as well...but that seemed to be the very thing that made her all the more hated.

Rumors were tossed around like candy wrappers and they cut deeper than knives to the 25 year old. Twisting around, Effie held her face in her hands, her makeup washing through her fingers in the rain, her wig weighed down with the rain, her curls flattening out and her shin bleeding as she wept there, waiting for the sting to subside. Her feet were bare, no sense keeping the silly heels on if one was broken anyway, and it was still stuck in the drain.

She hated the wig and makeup, hated most of the fashion she had to wear...but she had to be the face of the Capitol, the perfect citizen. Part of that meant looking the part...and that was what Effie was known for doing best.

As he walked, the rain slowly seeping into his jacket, Haymitch idly made note that he had to invest in a bigger flask, this one never lasted him long. But it was his favorite and he didn't intend to get rid of it so that thought left his mind as quickly as it came. One hand swilled the remaining liquor around in his flask, and the other shoved into his pocket as Haymitch leaned against the wall for a few minutes, fixing his eyes stonily on the puddles forming in the street.

With a sigh he reached up, pulling his hand out of his pocket and tugged at the horribly lilac tie he'd been all but forced to wear, dropping it into a puddle carelessly as he started to walk. He hated ties, they were the worst part of "fashion", stifling and made it ten time harder to drink for no real reason.

Apparently Effie hadn't gotten far at all, Haymitch had gotten no more than six steps in before the curled up, soaking wet and apparently sore, figure appeared on his right. He stood there, one eyebrow rising into the hair sticking to his forehead.

"What are you doing?"

The rain was pounding down around her, and her own sniffling and sobbing distracted her from hearing anyone coming. So when a deep, gravely voice spoke just behind her, Effie was embarrassed to let out a scream as she scrambled to spin and face whoever had crept up on her.

Haymitch. She groaned, wiping at her smudged face, looking away from him while trying to get to her feet. Her shin stung badly, she would have to go to the medics to have them save her from an ugly scar tomorrow. Couldn't have that...her legs were one of her best features.

"...I fell. I'm trying to go home..." Effie sniffed loudly, wincing as rain water was drawn up her nose. "...my heel got stuck...and it broke..." She hated that he was seeing her like this. His opinion was already painfully low. In the five years Effie had worked with Haymitch, he had hated her from day one. It was no wonder, she couldn't blame him, not at first, anyway. She had tried her best to be kind to him, be a friend, but he was so difficult...so volatile and hostile. He looked at her and treated her like every ounce of hatred he held for the Capitol was personified in her.

...Now she was literally in a puddle at his feet.

She shook her arms in a lame attempt to shake the water off, despite the still heavy falling rain and tried to stand, slipped, and fell back to her rear. "Oh, I bet you're just loving this..." She sobbed, retrieving her small handbag from the curb. "...Just a perfect night for you. Free open bar and Effie Trinket humiliated in every way..."

He rolled his eyes, staring stonily down at the woman at his feet, feeling the rain soak straight through his jacket and shirt.

"Well obviously you fell, princess."

His grey-blue eyes flickered from the broken shoe, to Effie in the puddles, to her handbag as she pulled it back and then back to the shoe. Her shin was bleeding too, no doubt she would overreact about it as soon as she got inside, which wasn't going to be until sometime next morning going by her current state.

Yes, exactly, it was Haymitch's life goal to see Effie Trinket in a gutter. But really, he wasn't fond at all of the rumors spreading around. Half of them concerned him too, and he didn't like people thinking of he and Effie as a couple, because there was no way that was going to happen. Everything about her was Capitol, her clothes, her wigs, makeup, blasted paper thin shoes, her accent. He hated the Capitol. Now Effie had a soul, he'd give her that, she at least cared about the Tributes, was genuinely upset when they died, often falling into a sniffling heap while Haymitch tried to control his anger and poured another drink.

"Get up then, you're not gonna get back very fast sitting there."

Effie glared up at him, wounded, as though he just twisted the knife a little deeper with his sarcasm. He was always so gruff, so cold. Couldn't he act like a decent human being just once? She tried to stifle a sob, wiping at her eyes again, horrified at how she must look right now, and reached for her shoes, tugging at the one that was stuck.

"No! I thought I'd just stay right here all night." She tugged harder, not looking at him anymore, jerking her head in the direction of their penthouse. "Off you go, I'll be along."

Haymitch crossed his arms, his thumb pressing firmly over the mouth of his open flask, preventing the rain getting in and watering it down, however little. He'd be lying if he said that it didn't give him a little sick satisfaction that most of the escort's makeup was running off, leaving streaks of black and colors behind that still looked better than the rest of it.

"You're not gonna make it back this week if you bother trying to get that out."

Yes she was upset, and yes, Haymitch was doing absolutely nothing to help that and probably made it worse, but he really didn't care that much. However it would probably only make matters worse if he just left her there in the gutter and walked off, however much he wanted to.

"Stop your waterworks." He grunted, taking a last swig and draining his flask before returning it to his jacket and closing the few steps between them to tap her shoulder. "Leave it and get up."

Effie wanted nothing more than to oblige him and "stop the waterworks", however, she couldn't. She was tired, and the week had been horrible and Crane was imposing his company on her more and more, never once without managing to imply terrible things about her reputation before taking his leave.

Haymitch was the last person she wanted to see her like this, for more reasons than one. He was probably loving every minute of it, standing over the perfect example of a Capitol citizen, crying in the street, drenched in rain. She pulled harder on her shoe only to have the heel break off properly and send her flying backward to hit her back on the light post.

She coughed, wincing as her back stung and the frustration rose with the breaking of her shoe. Haymitch suddenly stood painfully close to her, actually reached out and touched her shoulder and Effie tried to stand.

"I don't need you yelling at me right now, all right? Just...don't." Her hands swiped at water and tears on her cheeks, her makeup smudging again as she shivered in the puddle at his feet.

"I'm not yelling, princess, and if you don't want me to start, you'll come with me."

She struggled to her feet, her torn panty-hose slipping on the wet sidewalk, forcing her to grab the lamp post to save herself from falling again. Her lip quivered, she was quickly reaching her limit of things she could take tonight. "He shouldn't say things like that about me..."

It was the most ungrateful thing she had ever said about a higher up int he Capitol, the closest thing she had ever come to saying against the , so she wasn't in any mood to deal with him, she was never in a mood to deal with him and vice versa. But Haymitch wasn't in the best of moods either, he didn't often get cold but standing in the same spot under a downpour of rain was starting to get to him.

He growled, casting an eye up and down her to examine her condition. She wasn't going to get far without shoes and as wet and upset as she was Effie would probably collapse on the way. He didn't say anything when she brought Crane up, he wasn't here for a nice little chat, and even if he was by some drunken miracle, it wouldn't be about Crane.

All right fine. There wasn't really another choice, he couldn't leave her out in the street however much he disliked the woman. What was he gonna do, pick her up and throw her over his shoulder? She'd kick up a big fuss.

"Alright, alright..." And in the most awkward and uncoordinated gesture he could, Haymitch turned around, now considerably taller than her without her heels, and bent his knees slightly. "Get up. And don't argue about it."


	4. Chapter 4

Effie sniffed, her lower lip quivering as she pushed against the light post while trying to regain her composure. Over tired, overworked, and now soaked and freezing was no combination for dealing with a grouchy and demanding Haymitch.

"What are you doing..." She queried thickly, her nose stuffy from rain and tears, her wig sagging heavily.

The cold was setting in, her dress sopping wet and clinging to her, causing her to shiver and tremble all over-her teeth were even chattering. But apparently the night could get worse.

"I said don't argue about it. Get up or I'm going to throw you over my shoulder." Haymitch snapped, his fingers twitching slightly. He so needed another drink.

Was she really that...he glared over one shoulder, she was still standing there. Haymitch was very much on the verge of actually slinging her like a sack over one shoulder, the little patience he had left was wearing thin. Why had he even stopped? He should just keep going and leave her to make her own damn way back.

"On my back, woman! What do you expect, a carriage?"

Effie still stood there and he glared back over his shoulder in frustration, staring at her. There wasn't really a way to put her on his own back, that just wasn't really possible to do. Her eyes narrowed, trying to see his face through the rain in the dim night light. What was he playing at?

"Are you joking?" She demanded incredulously. "Even if I believed you wanted to help me, I couldn't get on your back in this dress! It's too tight!" she jerked her arm away from him, keeping him from snatching it and turned, limping away from him as she started back down the road toward home. Her tears still mingled with the rain, but the sobbing had subsided, thankfully returning an ounce of her dignity.

"Don't you think I've been humiliated enough?" She shot a glare at him over her shoulder, wincing as the scrape on her leg stung. "Now you want to just throw me on your back so you can gloat over me later? Oh, yes...I can see it now... Effie Trinket, prim and proper sniveling in the rain...Not even Haymitch Abernathy could leave her there despite how much he hates her."

Effie's hands dashed over her eyes, trying to catch the makeup from streaming down her face much worse. She felt like a drowned clown. She hated this makeup. She hated everything in that moment.

Haymitch watched her, wide eyed and glaring. And she thought he was difficult...she was right, he was difficult- and he took great pleasure in being so, but Effie was a piece of work herself, and damn stubborn too.

"Stop your whining, princess!"

No, Haymitch was not that nice a person, but he wasn't the cruelest either and funny as it was to see her hobbling in the rain without shoes, he was getting increasingly more and more irritated. With a low growl he kicked up the water in a puddle and closed the gap between him and her rather clumsy steps, with three of his own large ones. With no sense of personal space he stood directly behind her, Effie's unease written all over in the way her back and shoulders suddenly tensed.

"You sound like you want me to leave you 'sniveling in the rain.'" He snapped, without any warning knocking her knees out with an arm and pushing the other around her mid back.

"What are you doing?" Her eyes widened, blinking through raindrops to look up at him.

"Don't you complain or I'll drop you right here and you can walk back."

He was warm, even soaking wet, like a human space heater. As he scooped her up, Effie's arms instinctively circled his neck and shoulders, a surprised little squeak breaking through her lips as she gaped up at him.

"You can't carry me all the way back..." Sniffling, she didn't try to struggle, despite how awkward she felt. Since when did he care what happened to her?

"Oh it's not like you're heavy." He rolled his eyes, even with all the water weighing them both down, Effie was still particularly light.

Effie sighed, relenting as she relaxed against him. She didn't care enough to fight him anymore tonight. She was tired. Tired and emotionally spent. As she looked up at him, she could tell by the set in his jaw, the way his eyes narrowed through the rain that he was determined to have his way. Knowing him well enough not to fight with him more for fear of him keeping his word and dropping her, Effie relaxed in his arms, her weight lightening considerably with her body not tensed up. She sniffed again, her gaze lowering to her knees bent over his arm.

"I haven't done anything for them to talk about me like that..."

Haymitch was quite positive there was not an inch of either of them that was still dry as he made his way around the corner to their building. He was more than aware of every sense around him in that moment, the drops of water trailing down the back of his neck from his hair, the his shoes splashing in the puddles with every step, soaked through to his feet as he walked. Anyone who saw them could think what they liked, he was done caring about it, none of it was true anyway, and never would be. She was freezing, colder than he was though that wasn't very surprising. He wasn't really in much of a mood to do anything about it, he certainly wasn't going to coddle her and carry her longer than it took to get to the elevator.

"Don't expect this, princess." He muttered, ignoring her comment only because he had no idea how to respond to it. Soon enough he'd be able to go back to Twelve and not have to see or bother with the Capitol until next year. That thought alone kept him going. As empty and filthy his own house was in the Victors Village in his District, he much preferred it to the height of "fashionable" furniture and hideous shaggy carpet.

Effie looked up at him, her mouth dropping open a little as shame washed over her. That stung. How did his words still sting after five years? They had never been friends, so why did she care?_ "Don't expect this"_ as if she had asked him to carry her? Her eyes dropped, lip quivering. Was there no one in the world willing to give her a chance? That would not hate her? They progressed until they came to the long stretched awning that lead to the door of their apartment building and Effie wrestled herself free of his grip, pushing against his chest with her manicured hands.

"I expect less and less every day, Mr. Abernathy!" She shivered violently from head to foot and stumbled back away from him a few steps, favoring her right leg, barely putting pressure on her toe as the skinned shin stung badly. "I appreciate you getting me home. Don't bother troubling yourself further."

Haymitch rolled his eyes and dropped his arms. He hated being called that. Mr. Abernathy, it made him feel like he was supposed to be a gentleman. His name was Haymitch and people could call him that.

With that, and looking rather like a drowned cat, she turned and stormed inside. Every other step, Effie wiped at her wet face, keeping her gaze on the floor, hoping no one would see the mess she was as she hurried for the elevator. Without the slightest care for anyone looking at them, he raked a hand through his hair, sticking darkly to his neck and walking a good deal slower behind Effie who had reached the elevator and walked in without waiting.

No, Haymitch had no care for waiting for another elevator, they'd just have to bear each other's presence a little longer until he could get to his liquor upstairs. The doors began to slide shut and with a few more long strides, Haymitch managed to get his hand between them and force them to reopen.

For a moment, she took in the comfort of the empty elevator, wishing the doors would close faster as Haymitch's broad form filled the space between them. Just a little faster, just a little...no, there was his hand, stopping the doors from closing and stealing the brief moment of peace Effie had found all day.

Effie was hugging her arms tightly to her chest, teeth chattering and dripping wet from head to foot. She leaned in the corner, so cold she hurt and wanted nothing more than to get to her room and get changed and find a cup of tea or coffee to warm her up.

"Now that's not very polite is it?"

Effie sneered, rubbing the cold from her arms as the doors finally closed. "I suppose you would know all about manners, wouldn't you?"

She wanted him to leave her alone now. The only thing keeping her going was the thought of her pajamas and a hot cup of tea. Just a little longer, now. Her large blue eyes focussed on the warm yellow light of the elevator as it climbed the floors all the way to the was a very tense silence that filled the enclosed space after the door closed, neither party looking at the other. Just the steady feel of a few cold trickles of water running down the back of his neck that sent an odd shiver up and down Haymitch's spine.

More for lack of anything to do, he tugged out the empty flask again and unfastened the cap, somehow hoping it had magically refilled itself, no such luck. He didn't care what really happened now, he wasn't even very bothered about changing, he never really got sick.

Finally the tone chimed and the doors opened again, Haymitch lingering back a moment to let Effie stride out in front of him. She looked marginally less haughty now without shoes and soaking wet, in some ways it was almost comical. The moment he stepped into the penthouse the warmth hit him, it really it couldn't be that warm, he didn't remember putting the heating on at any point, but in contrast it was something.

Jacket dropped to the floor carelessly, Haymitch made a beeline for the small bar, he needed it. Effie barely noticed the gesture, allowing her to step out first as she hurried for the kitchen to quickly put the kettle on. Getting changed would need to wait a few more minutes in order to get that cup of tea. Once she stepped into her room, the wig would come off, the makeup would wash and her bed would call and she would not emerge again till morning.

The kettle began to heat and Effie sighed, turning and leaning against the counter to bend forward and examine the long, large scrape that spanned four inches of her shin. Her finger lightly brushed over it and winced. She would need to see the medics tomorrow to get it healed and get rid of the scar. It wouldn't do to have a leg scarred up with the amount of time she spent before cameras.

The clinking of glass drew her attention up to the bar a few feet away and she rolled her eyes. "'Bit late, isn't it?"

Haymitch grunted, shrugging his shoulders under the soaking, nearly see through shirt that had once been blue. Pouring a glass of whisky he looked up at Effie, glancing from her to the kettle and back.

"It's never too late, sweetheart." He ignored the glass he'd just poured and lifted the bottle, taking a swig directly from it and blinking away the initial burn in his throat.

It always seemed to taste better from a bottle, why, Haymitch didn't really know, it just did. He couldn't really say it was any stronger, because it wasn't really, but it felt stronger and that was very much appreciated in his mind. The faster he could get drunk the better, the more bearable everything was.

Casting another, slightly redder, eye over to Effie he smirked and lifted his free hand to the corner of his eye. "You got a little...makeup there."

Little was an understatement, it was all over her face, but...it was more entertaining to stir her up this way. Effie straightened, gasping and turning to look at her reflection in the stainless steal icebox. Her skin turned pink, what little bit was showing through the streaks of makeup, anyway. She looked horrific. Just like a drowned clown, as she originally feared.

Snatching at a cloth from the drawer handle nearby, Effie quickly wet it and dabbed at the blotches she could see in her reflection, trying not to show too much of her normal skin in the process. No-one had seen her real hair and skin since she was a young teenager and she wasn't about to let Haymitch Abernathy be the first to change that.

"Animal. There's a glass in your hand and you're going to just gulp from the bottle?" She was going from hurt and emotional to frustrated and angry and his presence was fueling the fire. He liked to rile her up. He liked getting her out of her proper manners and perfect image...but she was having none of it tonight.

The kettle began to whistle and Effie limped to the cupboard to retrieve a large mug and the teabag she preferred."You got a problem, princess? Pretty sure it's nothing you haven't told me twenty times this week."

He leaned forward intentionally, close up near her and took another swig deliberately to annoy her. Even in this state she was a nightmare and a half, emotional women were definitely not his forte and he'd leave them well alone...save for riling this one up, it was the only fun he really had that didn't necessarily require him to be off his head.

"Loosen your corset." He rolled his eyes and moved back, taking long, slow strides over to perch on the back of the couch, his legs stretched out in front of 's fists clenched at her sides in order not to snatch the bottle away from his smug face. What she ever did to deserve being paired up with THIS was beyond her. All her days as an Escort she had been the picture of the perfect employee for the Capitol...this seemed like a bad stint in purgatory.

Glaring, Effie waited for her tea to finish steeping and then turned back to add the sugar and cream as she took up the mug and limped out of the kitchen. She hobbled close to the drunk leaning against the couch, practically nose to nose with him as she jabbed a finger at his chest, vaguely aware of the hard muscle she was met with as she locked eyes with his icy grey ones.

"...My corset is none of your business, _Mr. Abernathy_!" She emphasized his name, jabbing his chest with each word. "...And get your wet behind off my couch before you leave a water mark! I'm going to bed! I'll leave you to the company of your pretty amber friend." With a final cursory glare up and down his person, Effie adjusted the mug in her hand and limped back to her room.

Haymitch arched an eyebrow, lifting the bottle back to his lips while she decided to start assaulting his chest with jabs. She was definitely more testy than usual tonight, for good reason probably. Often his corset jabs were met with a glare and a crack about his drinking, not direct confrontation about it, in fact, the man was very surprised she touched him willingly at all. Surely it would soil her nail polish.

The moment she turned her back he pulled a face and stuck out his tongue, making no move to get up off the couch.

It was several more hours and several empty bottles before he staggered hammered into his own room. There would be more events the next day more likely and he wasn't in any mood for them. Best to forget the inevitable for a little while. Perhaps manage a few hours of sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

A few hours was a lot to ask. The whole night, like every night, he twitched and rolled, his hand twitching ever closer to his pillow that concealed a knife beneath it.

Inevitably only an hour later he woke with a start, shouting at slashing at an enemy that wasn't there, his head pounding and heart racing. Haymitch passed the rest of the night between the bathroom and the edge of his bed, twirling the knife precariously.

Effie's eyes snapped open with the familiar shout that came from just down the hall but made no other move to react at first. She lay there quietly, staring into the dark and imagined Haymitch thrashing to his nightmares just like every night. Her eyes flickered over to the dimly lit clock hanging on the wall. Four A.M. He either went to bed later than usual, or he managed a little more sleep than he normally did.

Taking a deep breath, Effie sat up and clicked on her bedside table, warm light filling her room. Her alarm would be going off in half an hour anyway, might as well get an early start. She had to get ready for the day, make a few calls, her schedule was merciless...but she could never sleep after hearing Haymitch scream. No matter how badly they got along.

Her silk robe hung on the bedpost near her pillow and as she stood, Effie reached for it, slipping into it gracefully and tying it loosely around her waist. The first hour or so of being awake she spent with a mug of coffee and watching the sunrise through the large glass window of the living room. No one ever woke before she called for them, ignoring their alarms knowing she would inevitably come sing-songing down the hall anyway.

It normally took at least one cup of coffee and that calm, peaceful hour of the sunrising to chase away the sound of Haymitch's nightmare induced shout from her mind. Effie may be the face of the Capitol, the perfect example of a perfect citizen, but that didn't mean she liked the way things were done...what the Capitol did to people... Haymitch included, made her positively sick, but there was nothing she could do.

Finally, it was time...she was painted and her wig was in place, her favorite dress fitting perfectly and her best heels comfortably on her feet. She pock-pocked down the hall, steeling herself for a day with a hungover old bear before lightly rapping on his door.

Haymitch groaned into his hands, pressed over his face, fighting the urge to somehow extinguish the sun, not that that was entirely impossible in the Capitol, or throw up. The latter of which was far harder to fight.

He was perched on the edge of his bed his pants still damp from the previous night of saving Effie from her puddle of self pity, his shirt in an untidy pile on the floor with his shoes, all he'd managed to do in his drunken state.

_Please don't...please don't... _There were the tell tale taps of fifty inch heels down the hall as came every morning...he could do without them today. With a reluctant growl he forced himself off the bed, staggering a few steps and bracing himself on his side of the door to stop the spinning and lights bursting in his eyes for a few moments.

"Up you get! Big day! Lots to do!"

A high, chirpy Effie voice chimed through the door, and he put a hand on the handle to open it. If he didn't at least stick his head out the door to prove he was up, she would keep knocking and possibly even go right in there to force him out of bed...from a safe distance.

" 'm up!" He groaned, running a hand over his bloodshot eyes for a moment and pulled the door open, sticking his head out to fix her with the glare he tended to reserve for mornings.

Effie was posed for a fresh series of knocking when the door opened and her knuckles nearly met with Haymitch's forehead. She stiffened and drew her hand back slowly, hoping he was too hungover to notice how close she had come to rapping on his head.

"Oh, good!" She smiled brightly through her magenta colored lipstick. He was terribly hungover, and dark circles were under his puffy eyes. "Breakfast is waiting, meetings begin at ten, then we'll have luncheon with a few sponsors to start off the day!" she turned and began to pock away, pausing to look back at him.

"Oh, and Haymitch?" She held up a finger, poking it in his direction. "You might want to bathe."

"To start the day? Start?" Haymitch groaned again, leaning his head against the door frame. If he had his way, and he did back home, his day never started at all until well after noon.

Effie was far too cheerful in the mornings, far more than any ordinary person would be, but she wasn't really ordinary was she? It was like nothing at all had happened last night, had anything happened? He remembered being soaking wet...he was still wet, and he remembered Effie in the gutter and picking her up, that was about all. With a roll of his eyes, Haymitch pulled back in and leaned heavily against the door to close it, did he really have to shower? It had been a few days...he should probably shave too-what was he thinking? Blame it on the hangover.

At the very least he consented to try and find something moderately clean to wear, there was only two shirts left hanging up or folded neatly, one of which was pink and he would never wear the other was starting to yellow. Plucking a white one from the floor that didn't smell, he tossed it over onto the sheets, disappearing into the en-suite. Thankfully it didn't take him overly long and within ten minutes he was out in the hallway, dressed and buttoning his shirt as he went. This was as dressed up as he was being today.

Effie sat prim and proper at the dining table, a dainty breakfast spread before her, mostly fruit and one hot cake with a very small amount of butter. Before long, Haymitch had joined her and she beamed at him with her best smile as she passed the jam and toast his way.

It had become a habit of hers, after a night that he clearly slept particularly bad, to have his favorite foods and drinks ready at breakfast for him. They didn't get along, but Effie was very much aware that he had been put through terrible things for the entertainment of the Capitol and as much as she hated the way Haymitch treated her, the painted woman couldn't claim she didn't understand.

"Good morning," She said, careful to keep her voice relatively quiet, but pleasant. "Jam? There are sausages and eggs under that tray there." One pale leg crossed over her knee and she tried to hide the wince that followed when her shin pinched where it began to scab over night.

She gave him a few moments of quiet before clearing her throat as her face softened. Setting down her teacup, Effie leaned forward slightly, "Uh, Haymitch? I...I couldn't help, well, couldn't help noticing the feathers when you opened the door this morning. Another bad night?"

The man glanced at the table for several minutes before he stepped up the few stairs to the raised level it perched on. Nobody could say the meals in the Capitol were substandard that was for sure, and he certainly ate better here than back in the District, however much he hated this place.

He did like jam, and he only ever ate jam and toast for breakfast, with the occasional sausage or two. Without a real comment, just a civil flick of his eyebrows he took the offered plate of toast before slipping into his seat. Dropping the flask in his hand onto the table, somehow in his stupor he must have refilled it last night, he took the cup of tea already poured for him, probably as some civil gesture of Effie's, and poured a healthy...or more correctly, unhealthy, amount of liquor into it.

She was quiet, that was something he actually appreciated, she knew to be quiet when he was hungover, unless it was the beginning of the Games with the Tributes when she talked a mile a minute. His knife clattered out of his hand onto the plate, jam smearing onto the table when she brought up his sleeping. Yeah, there were feathers, he'd split another pillow with the knife fighting off a Career in his nightmares. It had been a horrible night. His mind decided to conjure every horrible image it found in his memory, and then some he knew weren't real.

"Hn...could say that."

Effie's face softened considerably, her soft pink makeup chosen for the day was worn at the bare minimum with just lipstick and painted eyes. She looked far more normal than usual, more casual and spring-time like. Her skin, normally kept painted white barely needed the paint with how very pale it was naturally, and that was only accentuated by the reds and pinks in her colors today, and her scarlet red finger nails.

With a sigh, Effie poured herself another cup of tea and readjusted her posture in her chair. "I'm very sorry."

She meant that. From the first day she met him she could tell he had been through a lot...Effie never watched the reruns of the games, so she only knew word of mouth stories of what happened to him, and even then nothing was clear. She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"I know we don't get along, but if you ever need anyone to speak to..." She lowered her head awkwardly, avoiding his eyes. She knew how rude she had been to him last night, how ungrateful, but at the time she couldn't help herself. No. That was enough, Haymitch didn't need or want anyone prying into his life, trying to make him talk about his problems. Let alone anyone from the Capitol. That wasn't going to happen, he was solitary enough to deal with his nightmares himself.

Scowling at his plate, thickly swallowing the toast as his throat began to close up, Haymitch looked up at her stonily. Meeting her eyes with his cold ones.

"I don't."

He didn't want anyone. Aside from the people in his District who were old enough to remember his Games and what had followed, he had no intention for anyone else to ever know. That was his burden to deal with and his memories to drown and suppress. Katniss and Peeta had offered some comfort, and the fact they'd actually survived meant a good deal to Haymitch but he had no intention of ever telling anyone so.

Suddenly he wasn't hungry anymore and chose instead to fixate his gaze on the corner of the table, lifting the considerably stronger tea to his mouth and resigning himself to finishing it, which he wouldn't have done if there were no alcohol in it.

It was like he had doused her in tepid water, like his eyes had pinned her to her seat and Effie was proud of herself for keeping her face neutral despite the way her feelings gained new bruises. She hated the way he looked at her, as though she were the embodiment of everything he hated, the very person who had done everything evil to him. He treated her like an enemy, and for the life of her, Effie couldn't think why she cared, why she wanted to be his friend, wanted to stop the fighting.

Lips in a tight line, she shifted in her stiff posture to bring her teacup to her lips, dropping her eyes to avoid his, breaking the stony gaze he had pinned her with before he had a chance to do so.

"Well, the offer still stands if you ever need." She said quietly, her voice very small.

"Right! The schedule for today...it's rather loose, but not too loose. We have brunch, then an address to a group of sponsors as a sort of thank you, then lunch, then a meeting with game makers as a schedule for the victory tour." Her demeanor changed from her quiet friendliness to crisp and energetic as she turned her mind to her schedule, a welcome distraction."I won't need it, princess."

Yeah...he'd hurt her feelings again. Haymitch was very good at that and made no real effort to change it, he just didn't care. No matter the person who asked him to talk, his response was always going to be the same.

Stuff the schedule...maybe it would have been better if the kids hadn't survived. It was a horrible thing to say, or to think, but at least Haymitch wouldn't be forced to stay around here, in a place he hated, for so long. It would just be back in the train, with bodies to bring home, and no one to yell at him for drinking.

"What's the point in brunch? It's not even a meal..." he really, really didn't want to go, and yet everyday he dragged himself out of the apartment and then back in, usually a lot less sober. Effie was back to her annoyingly chipper self, tapping around in her heels the moment she finished eating. Clapping her hands for him to hurry when he didn't rush out the door.

He couldn't even be late...not with her all but physically pulling him along. It turned out they were early, of course they were...a good twenty minutes early. Maybe this meant it would be over sooner...better not get his hopes he wanted to believe it or not, Effie hated these sorts of meetings just as much as Haymitch did. He had no idea the amount of pressure she was under, the expectations thrust upon her. Not only was Effie expected to be perfect in every way by Capitol standards, but she was expected to keep her tributes and victor as near perfect as could be attained by the lowly people of District 12.

...All this while keeping perfectly on time and never responding to the cutting insults and backhanded compliments she received daily for being the Escort of such an embarrassing district.

She took a steadying breath before opening the door for Haymitch to stumble through. They weren't embarrassing anymore. They wouldn't be emotional wrecks. Their tributes had won, and won in a way none other had done before. Both were alive and well.

Let the Capitol consider THAT an embarrassment. She nodded to her own thoughts, then hoped no one else saw her do it as she pocked across the floor to sit gracefully in a chair, crossing one leg delicately over the other.

"This is going to be an interview with Caesar and Seneca Crane, Haymitch. We're going to be discussing the Games and how we thought of Katniss and Peeta's performance." She wanted to give him as much of a warning as possible, knowing that, though it wouldn't help much, it would help enough."Ah hell..." His day just got worse...he should have known this would involve dealing with Crane again. The slimy snake in the grass...much as he'd let both Tributes win...he was still despicable.

He drew one knee up onto his own chair, bracing it against the table and teetering backwards on two legs, trying to mentally prepare himself for the onslaught of questions and snide remarks. He could handle Caesar, he was just very showy and often pried quite a bit. He was exactly the same as he had been twenty four years ago in his interview with Haymitch, though now considerably older.

Closing both eyes for a few moments to gather a little patience, the alcoholic pursed his own lips, feeling Effie's eyes on him and his teetering chair. The moment he heard the suede shoes stepping over he dropped forward again with an unhindered clatter and reluctantly opened his eyes.

"Right, lets get this over with..."

"It shouldn't take longer than thirty minutes. Caeser is a very busy man and hasn't the time to dwell overly long in any particular interview. Even one such as this...Try not to insult Mr. Crane openly...that's all I ask."

Effie stood in a fluid motion, clutching her handbag close to her hips, her dark purple dress fitting in all the right places and her light purple wig just right with silken curls and body. A large bow graced the top of her head, just quirked to one side, and Effie knew by Capitol standards at least, she looked lovely.

Soon they were standing on stage, waving and taking their seats before a massive crowd of highly entertained people. Effie couldn't help thinking that if it weren't so un-lady- like, she would bet money they were here just to see Haymitch make a fool of himself. Part of her wanted to prove them all wrong, make them see he was more than a drunk and that he was such a man today because of the capitol and the games...but another part simply wanted him to behave and not make trouble.


	6. Chapter 6

Haymitch forced himself out of the seat with an exaggerated groan, determined to be as sour as he liked until he was in front of the cameras, rolling his shoulders like he was getting ready to run a marathon. This stage was too familiar, and for a moment he remembered his sixteen year old self, every bit as sourly, walking across here. Shaking Caesar's hand and dropping into a chair.

No, he wasn't remembering that now. Haymitch wasn't sure he could control himself if he did dwell too much. Plastering on a half smile, the best he could manage he stood an extra moment, waiting for Effie to sit first and slung his ankle over the other knee.

"Welcome! Welcome, both of you!" Caeser leaned forward and took each of their hands in turn with a warm shake. Effie smiled back at him, he really was a nice man. One of the few men of the Capitol Effie believed was truly and genuinely nice.

Seneca sat in the chair just to Caeser's right, already interviewed about the particulars of game making. He now sat watching the newcomers, eyeing Effie boldly up and down before flicking his eyes derisively at Haymitch. Effie felt her shoulders stiffen. She hated when he looked at her.

"Now," Caeser began pleasantly. "You both have a reputation for, well...being less than friends. How have the last few weeks been, spending so much extra time together?" The crowd laughed.

"Haymitch?" Caeser pressed.

It unnerved him how easily it came to pretend to be relaxed, how comfortable he was pretending. But then, he did it for at least fifteen hours of the day , this wasn't really new for him. He made little effort to hide the clench in his jaw when he glanced at Seneca, knowing exactly where that man's eyes would travel first, he didn't like it. Much as he and Effie were "less than friends" he disliked Seneca far more.

"Ha." He chuckled somewhere in his throat, glancing briefly out at the crowd and back to Caesar "...Long."

Effie joined the laughter, trying to sound as natural as could be. This week had been long and draining on her emotions not to mention she hadn't been sleeping well.

"Come now, Mr. Abernathy!" Caeser chimed mid-laugh. Miss Trinket is a charming girl!"

Effie felt her cheeks warm and she smiled demurely down, putting a hand to one side of her face. "Oh, Caesar, stop..." She giggled.

The crowd laughed and 'awed'. They always seemed to like her, it was only the people she worked with daily that had a hard time of it.

"Miss Trinket is quite charming," Seneca dipped his head with his most dashing, white toothed smile behind his perfect beard. "If only she would let her hair down from time to time, right Abernathy?"

Effie fought hard to keep her face easy, her muscles relaxed. Seneca Crane had a knack for making her feel uncomfortable. It was something to do with his eyes. Despite the layers of makeup and wigs, the extravagant, yet modest clothes, she still felt as though he were undressing her when he saw her.

Was he implying it again? Probably...Crane always insisted on implying that there was something with Haymitch and Effie. Anything other than dislike was completely farfetched and Haymitch had to fight not to say that. Force himself to control the scowl threatening to creep over his face.

No, that'd do no good, he'd just seem defensive of her and that would only spark more rumors about them. He couldn't have that, so against his better judgement he faked a smirk and replied, simultaneously fixing the Game-maker with a look that clearly told him to shut up about it.

"That's one way of putting it."

The crowd laughed again, a little more substantially and it took a few moments for Caesar to be able to pose his next question.

"Now, this is of course the first victory for District 12, since you yourself, Haymitch. Tell me, Effie, what was it like to see not one, but both Tributes survive these Games?"

Effie let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding as Haymitch replied in the most democratic way possible. Knowing Haymitch well enough, she could see the daggers behind the smile he sent Crane, she could feel the tension in his body as he sat just a few inches away.

Pouting at the crowd as their laughter died down, she found herself satisfied to receive a large amount of 'awws' in place of the laughs and turned her purple smile on Caesar. She sat up straight, her hands folded primly in her lap, eyes sparkling sincerely.

"Oh, I just love it! I can't lie to you, Caesar, it breaks my heart to lose them each year...I do grow quite fond of the dears. Peeta and Katniss especially have wormed their ways into my heart..." Purple fingernails at the ends of slender, pale fingers covered her heart as she inclined her head.

The crowd crooned as though she were the most adorable thing they had ever seen. "I'm very proud of them, delighted they're still with us and able to return home victorious."

Haymitch screwed up his nose, inwardly hoping they didn't expect an answer from him, he didn't like talking about the Tributes dying year in, year out. He'd been overjoyed when both Peeta and Katniss came out alive, and then suspicion had set in. Their stunt with the berries was like his with the forcefield, the Capitol wasn't going to take lightly to it, they'd made them look like idiots.

He nodded along for the next ten minutes, time passing agonizingly slowly and his hand absentmindedly twitching on his knee, itching to reach for his flask. He always needed a drink when he was being asked questions, no matter the question.

"I just have one more question for you both. Haymitch, as a Victor yourself, what would you have to say about their tactics in the arena?"

There it was, that was the question he dreaded. The man cringed inwardly, his eyes flicking almost uneasily over to Crane and back to Caesar with their usual cool indifference.

"I would say...it kept them alive, didn't it?"

"That's very true!" Caeser laughed, sitting up straighter in his seat. "I'm afraid that's all the time we have for today, but many thanks to Mr. Seneca Crane for sharing his time with us, and thanks to Haymitch, and special thanks, to the lovely Miss Trinket, for gracing us with her presence." He leaned forward and kissed her hand with flourish, patting it fondly before releasing her with a smile. "One of the loveliest ladies to grace this stage,"

Effie hid her blush by putting her fingers to her warm cheeks. Caeser stood with Crane and Haymitch and reached out his hand to gallantly help Effie to her feet, but he was interrupted from the gesture by the very soft hand of Seneca Crane as he swooped in to steal her manicured hand away from Caeser. Effie's breath caught in her throat, her blood going cold at his touch and she couldn't help it when her eyes flickered to Caeser and Haymitch for help.

Caeser's brow rose with concern, and a little affront, but to his credit he played it off. Haymitch was unreadable, however, leaving Effie helpless to Crane's grip.

"Well, what's this now?" Caeser crooned at the back of Crane's head.

"I've realized how very right you are, Caeser, my friend." Crane responded, eyes locked with Effie's blue ones. "Miss Trinket is quite the loveliest woman to grace this stage...and..." he brought her fingers slowly to his lips. "I'd like to take her to dinner."

The crowd gasped and after a moment of surprise passed, erupted in cheers as Crane straightened and enclosed Effie's hand in both of his. She let her tongue dart out, wetting her rapidly drying lips.

"Oh! Now this is quite a development!" Caeser gasped.

"What do you say, Miss Trinket? A nice dinner with a charming and handsome young man?"

Effie still looked shocked, dazed, even a little confused. This was something she never would have expected in her wildest dreams, and she certainly didn't want it...but to refuse him here? In front of all Panem? Her eyes flicked back to Haymitch, she didn't know why, but part of her wanted him to dash in and intervene. Maybe it was because he was the closest thing she had to a regular male figure in her life she had in years...maybe...no. She shook her head to clear it, clearing her throat at the same time and pasting on one of her trademark, sparkling smiles.

"Certainly. Dinner would be lovely." She was lying through her teeth, and no one ever had to know.

Haymitch managed another half smile, flicking one eyebrow up in amusement as Caesar found his answer apparently humorous, and thankfully was the conclusion of the interview. The moment they were off camera he'd need that drink...and Haymitch fully intended not to go the whole rest of the day sober.

He was so showy, an alright man himself, but Flickerman was just...so showy, and yet, Haymitch didn't find it terribly infuriating when he kissed Effie's hand. Not that he ordinarily would, because...well he didn't care.

It was Crane that he minded. The moment the smooth talking Gamer-maker swooped it with that beard that was probably insured for who knew how much, Haymitch's hand tensed, clenching into an uncomfortable fist. Choosing to ignore the very fleeting and altogether surprised look that Effie shot him, he settled for shooting Crane a glare he didn't bother to hide from the camera's that were undoubtedly flicking from his face to Crane and was he even thinking? He didn't care about Effie any more than he cared about the other Capitol citizens, which wasn't really much at all. She could do what she liked, and if that meant dating scumbags like Seneca Crane, so be it. Haymitch wasn't about to leap in between them or put Crane up against a wall by his throat.

That bubble of anger popped as suddenly as it had formed and Haymitch fell back into his usual cool and relatively collected demeanor. Shaking the hand Caesar offered again, he lingered back, waiting for both Crane and Effie to step off the stage and out of sight before he followed.

Off stage and Seneca released his hold on her as quickly as he had taken it up.

"I'll have my car pick you up at seven." Not a question, and by the glint in his eye, Effie could see he would brook no refusal or excuses. He swept away, leaving her blinking, mouth slightly agape in shock, and an ever so faint tremor that made the ends of her curly wig look as though it were vibrating softly.

Why? Why now? What had she done? Was this a sincere desire to have dinner, or would it lead to an evening of subtle threats and games? Effie felt sick, a green tinge adding to her overly white make up and she hurried off to the ladies room not far away.

Caeser stepped off stage directly behind Haymitch, his face a more serious mask of emotion from what it was when cameras were rolling. He watched Effie go, letting the stylists powder his nose as he stood there with the overly sober victor. His eyes cut away after Effie, following the sound of her heels pocking.

"You didn't hear this from me," he said to Haymitch as a side note, pity in his tones. "...but that can't be good."

Haymitch groaned, not bothering to conceal his frustration now as Caesar stepped up behind him. His hand lingered over his pocket where his flask rested, just about ready to punch the next person who spoke to him before he could drink. He was often tense early in the day, and that interview was just pushing it.

Effie had trotted off and he couldn't go without her, she knew the schedule by heart each day and got more than a little annoyed with him if he was either late or didn't show up at all.

There was something off about the way Crane just walked off without a second glance, as though he had just turned on the charm to get a woman out to dinner...well, that was very likely true. Haymitch didn't trust many people, but any Gamemaker was worse than most, with the exception of Snow himself. He didn't trust Crane as far as he could throw a couch.

"I can tell." He grunted, giving in and digging into his pocket for his flask before dropping back against the wall. Taking a long swig and closing his eyes for a moment, the man finished "Not really my business though is it?"

Caeser watched the victor with an almost studying eye, as though reading something just below the surface that he couldn't quite make out. When Haymitch leaned back against the wall, Caeser shrugged. "It will be if you're out an escort one day soon."

He raised his blue brows knowingly and nodded once to Haymitch before turning and going back out onto the stage to a round of cheers and applause.

A few moments later, Effie returned, her makeup freshly applied and her smile tentatively painted onto her face as she briskly pock-pocked her way around the corner and up to Haymitch where he waited.

"I do apologize for keeping you waiting. Shall we?" Inwardly, Effie kicked herself for the unmistakeable shake in her voice, a tell-tale sign that she had thrown up or cried or both... and she didn't want Haymitch knowing she did either.

She had everything under control. Everything. Always. "We'll be meeting for brunch next, I think." Her purple eyebrows met in alarm as she realized she couldn't quite remember the order of the schedule and quickly rummaged for her pocket computer that had her entire life programmed into it.

She opened it with shaking hands, scowling at herself, "Oh, goodness me... we're going to be late at this rate..."

"Then can I go back?"

He rolled his eyes, half the contents of the flask gone already, not that it ever lasted him long, and unfortunately it wasn't even enough to start him getting tipsy, just enough to keep him calm and relax him when he needed it.

With his luck there would be something after "brunch", and then after that, with just barely enough time to get back before Effie would be gone again. Dare he say he was almost looking forward to her going out. It would leave him free to get as drunk as he liked and not be yelled at for a few hours.

Effie was out of sorts, that was very, very odd, and had become more and more frequent lately. After her breakdown the previous night in the rain, despite his hangover he still knew she wasn't going to be able to easily pick herself up from all l the rumours circulating. Pity his method didn't really work for anyone else. Take a another drink and forget everything. That or threaten them to shut their stupid mouths.

"Relax, princess, two minutes ain't gonna kill you."

She visibly flinched at the second half of that sentence, though only in her eyelashes. Pausing, she took ten seconds to close her eyes and breathe. Opening her eyes again, she scanned the screen of her wallet and made a few notes.

"Ah, there." She said at last. "Brunch, a meeting with a stylist to discuss your suits for the coming year, and then a semi-casual lunch with a few potential sponsors, and you're free for the day." There was that painted on smile again, even though it never quite reached her eyes.

Raising a pale arm, a tremor still evident in the way her fingers wavered unsteadily. "Shall we?" She smacked her lips and motioned for Haymitch to come along. For once, she thought she might be just as eager to skip out on the schedule as he was for a change.

Discuss hi-what? That was just ridiculous, and stupid. It was ridiculous and stupid, how much was there to discuss about suits? But then...the last time he'd missed one of those he'd ended up with nothing but pink, salmon and violet which Haymitch had flat out refused to wear. He'd sooner go in boxers.

He settled for a snort of disdain and took another small swig, fitting one and a half of Effie's strides into each of his long ones. He replaced the cap on the silver flask and tried to harbor the rest for when he would surely need it.

Despite his attempts at trying to seem as indifferent as always, Haymitch couldn't stop his eyes cutting back to Effie's arm, her fingers, the uneasy smack of her lips. Just what had Crane said to make her lose control of herself? Usually only Haymitch was really capable of doing that, and he was only sometimes aware of it.

"What'd he say?"

He kept his tone neutral, couldn't have her getting any ideas about him, that he was soft or anything, he was certainly not was a struggle, but Effie managed not to bite her lip when he asked her about Crane. Her heart instantly sped up and all she could think of was the look in Seneca's eyes as he told her what time she would be picked up. What had he said? It wasn't what he said...it was the air with which he said it, the cool look in his eye, the set of his mouth...Effie read them all like a book...she was in trouble and Crane was going to make sure she knew just how much more trouble she would be in if she didn't fix whatever it was that had displeased the Capitol.

She swallowed hard, watching her shoes as they peaked out from under her skirt with each step, the purple glitter shimmering in the studio lighting. "Oh, just that he'd have a car pick me up at seven."

It wasn't a lie. She had no idea how to explain the rest to Haymitch without sounding silly, or paranoid...and a glance at him told her the extent of his concern ended with the energy it took to ask the question at all.

"Anyway, we'll be seeing Cinna, too. He's giving a consult with your stylist to compare designs after the brilliant work he did for Katniss and Peeta. He said to just tell him exactly what you like, and he'd see it done. This should be quick and painless for you for a change."


	7. Chapter 7

They left the studio and Effie quickly slid into her seat, as if the car provided a safe haven away from all the prying eyes that she suddenly felt were watching her. It wasn't long before they were on the road and ticking through her agenda for the day.

It was going fast, just like Effie liked best. Fast and smooth.

Mercifully the suits weren't what had taken the time, that had all been over and done in half an hour. What was ridiculous was the fact they needed to measure him again. Haymitch was most certainly not getting any bigger-hadn't for a long time. He even managed to maintain a decent weight with the amount of alcohol he consumed on a daily basis.

It was the incredibly dull "potential sponsors" at lunch that bored him most. At one point he had actually snored very slightly and snapped his eyes open to see two very strange looks and hear Effie's exasperated "tut".

Thankfully, he didn't need to talk often, just nod along and pretend he was interested even slightly, which did take a fair amount of effort on his part. Katniss and Peeta were through. This may gain District 12 a little more attention from the Capitol, a little more fame for the "star crossed lovers"...that's what this was supposed to be about. Gaining people to back their District in the coming was finally time to go home and Effie stood with a gracious smile and shaking each sponsor's hand in turn. Despite Haymitch snoring at them, they all seemed marvelously supportive and Effie was sure to tell them all she looked forward to working with them in the future.

Moving around the table, Effie looked back at Haymitch, waiting for him to come along after her. Now she only had to wait for her dinner with Seneca Crane and she suddenly wanted a cup of tea. Once outside, Effie fell into step beside Haymitch, clutching her handbag beneath one elbow and scanning her wallet computer as she walked.

"That was splendid! ...Even with your unscheduled little nap." She paused, allowing the driver to open the car door for her and then slid in with a graceful swing of her legs.

The car was cool and Effie allowed herself a moment to relax tense muscles and breathe in deeply now that the airs and graces required for public eyes were no longer needed. She didn't care quite as much with only Haymitch to see...she cared a lot, but, at least she could be somewhat herself.

Her wigged head rested back against the seat with a sigh, her shoulders, normally straight as boards sagged ever so slightly. Sighing again, she closed her eyes for a few precious seconds of solitude before she felt the weight of Haymitch as he slid into the seat across from her.

Haymitch's eyes rested on her from his place across the car. She hadn't been herself since parting with Crane that morning and the longer the day went on, the more it annoyed Haymitch. He should not be bothered by the state Effie was in, should not care what happened between the escort and gamemaker. Good luck to them, they were made for each other as far as he was concerned. ...But the tension in her brows, the anxious set of her shoulders, her jittery habits all day all served to make the mentor more and more curious.

Finally, he couldn't hold back the curiosity any longer and cleared his throat. "So, not too keen on this dinner of yours, eh?" His voice was rich and gravelly from lack of use and years of whiskey damage, and his words were just ever so slightly slurred from continuously sipping at his liquor all day. It wasn't often he and Effie Trinket traded words that were about anything other than their schedule or whatever they happened to be fighting about. He found it awkward.

When her blue eyes opened to glance across at him, she looked confused, as if it took a moment to register that he had spoken at all. "...No." She shook her head softly, a cloud passing over her face. "I'm not."

Effie's head turned slightly, her perfect posture returning, trying to cover up her feelings, hide them from showing more than they apparently already had. Her eyes followed the scenery while she pretended not to notice the way Haymitch's eyes studied her face. Effie hated when he did that. These random quiet moments where he would just stare at her like she was some painting to figure out. He had no sense of manners or personal space, he did what he wanted no matter how it made her feel. Luckily, he didn't seem to have anything else to say, or didn't know how to say it and finally turned his face away to look out the other window. The rest of the day was passed in silence.

Effie came in long after she would normally be in bed. She was the type that believed strongly in "early to bed, early to rise" and rarely varied from her nightly ritual. Tonight, however, she sauntered in from her dinner with Crane looking slightly dazed and obviously distracted. The rumors circulating were less than pleasing to Crane, apparently, and somehow Effie was the one to fix that, the one responsible. The consequences were made perfectly clear and undeniable.

Effie's blood was still pumping cold in her veins and she made a bee-line for her tea kettle. She needed to warm up, to relax. Haymitch grunted to himself, not even bothering to cut his eyes up as the door opened. He'd apparently gone unnoticed by Effie, whose heels still made that infuriating tap along the floor as she walked apparently more determinedly than she had most of the day.

He was on his back on the couch, one foot on the floor, unkempt and very drunk, several empty bottles littered the floor beside the couch and another with only a third of the amber liquid left in it. His eyes were focusing semi-blurrily on the knife he was twirling in his hand, the point against one finger, almost but not quite breaking the skin.

Now Effie was back he scowled, he liked the rare solitude he had in the Capitol and now it was gone again. One comment about his drinking tonight... it wasn't going to take much to set him off. Effie filled the kettle and placed it on the stove, turning on the eye and turned to lean against the sink. Snatching a glass from the cupboard, she filled it with water and downed a large gulp. It had been a very bad night, and Seneca had all but accused her of being a traitor to the Capitol. He implied many things, terrifying things, but mostly he threatened her with what he would do if she did not keep a better leash on Haymitch.

A bitter smile spread across her magenta lips. Keep a leash on Haymitch...as if that were even possible...It was all she could do to make him be civil in his interviews. Five years they had been working together and if anything his attitude had grown worse, his hatred of her more intense... The kettle sang and she turned to take it off the heat, pouring the steaming liquid into her mug and dropping the tea bag in before adding sugar and a bit of cream. Effie was tired, and her feet ached. She wanted out of this outfit, the wig and makeup...

As she took the first sip of tea, Effie leaned over and peeled off her seven inch heels, sighing in relief as her feet finally felt comfortable for the first time that day.

"That's better..." She sighed.

From the couch, Haymitch peered back casually at the kitchen. "...started to think you weren't comin' back tonight."

Which was semi true, Haymitch had jokingly started to think she was taking him literally and might have loosened her corset a fair amount more than was wise. With a clatter he threw the knife onto the table in the centre of the living area, not caring in the least when it scratched the wooden surface.

Effie's head snapped up at the sound of Haymitch's voice. She hadn't noticed him in the room, though she should have. Now that she was aware of his presence she could smell the sour tang of liquor in the air.

The clatter of the knife made her cross the room, shifting her hips to miss bumping the counter on her way by. "That is mahogany!" she exclaimed indignantly, balancing the tea in her mug so it wouldn't spill.

"And that's a knife, princess, your point?" The drunk remarked snidely, rolling his eyes as the expected berating began and resisting the urge to just grab the knife and stab the table to anger her. Effie just seemed to ignore him and went on with whatever she was saying now.

"...and of course I was coming back tonight! What kind of girl do you think I am?"

Effie pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers,

He wasn't quite drunk enough to be able to pretend he didn't hear her, to to actually not hear her properly. He needed quite a bit more for that to be achieved with those tones.

"Well yo-"

"Don't answer that." She cut him off. She cut him off. She cut him off...Haymitch glared at her, he was being rather chivalrous and ready to answer that last question completely honestly. What did he think she was. Capitol, that's what he thought she was.

"When was the last time you bathed? Just how long have you been on this couch?" She came closer, her eyes widening as she took in all the bottles surrounding him on the floor.

With a groan of effort he pushed himself upright, tugging up the mostly empty bottle with him and glancing red eyed across the room as she sunk a healthy amount of inches.

"...How have you not killed yourself yet? One more drink and you'll be drowned!"

Haymitch groaned into one hand, fighting off the beginnings of a headache, leering over and past her to the other side of the table, putting it in between them. "One damn question at a time."

And purely to emphasize her last statement he lifted the bottle and downed the remnants. It wasn't half enough to drown him, he really didn't care what it was doing to his liver, it probably gave up a good ten years ago 's threats raced through her mind in a white hot swirl, mixing with the scratched mahogany, the empty bottles, the wasted victor. She was more than grateful they had the day off tomorrow to do what they liked. One day to rest and keep to themselves...away from interviews and prying eyes.

He had no idea what she had at risk...even if he did, he wouldn't care. Haymitch didn't care about anyone but himself. He made that perfectly clear. When mentoring Katniss and Peeta, Effie had managed to find a glimmer of hope for him, it seemed like he cared about those two...but then as soon as they were delivered back to their district, Haymitch had returned to his entirely unpleasant, and usually mean self.

"Fine. I hope you DO drown yourself! Stubborn, grouchy, old man!" She stomped her small bare foot and turned to go to her room, shoes in one hand, tea in the other. Maybe she was taking out her frustration and nerves on him, where she hadn't been able to with Crane, but he was hardly innocent. There was always some reason or another to yell at him.

Haymitch snorted, dropping the bottle down to join the others with a satisfying clink, it was very, very slowly helping to ignore her. It probably wasn't the first time Effie had said that to him, but he was too drunk to really remember clearly. Ordinarily it wouldn't bother him, he didn't care at all about his health, and he hadn't the faintest idea how much longer he would last with his drinking getting worse every year. But this time, for some reason he couldn't put his finger on, and it annoyed Haymitch to no end, those words stung. Hoped he'd drown himself indeed...

"Wouldn't that be lovely, sweetheart." He snapped back sarcastically at her retreating head. "Remove a little stress from your head, tarnish your reputation though wouldn't it?"He sneered, his eyes glinting coldly "Wouldn't want that."

Effie closed her eyes, instantly regretting her words. She hadn't meant them, not at all. She wanted to be his friend, but they always came back to this, came back to fighting and throwing words at each other like knives. As his voice chased her down the hall, Effie froze, her back stiffening as she tensed.

_Just keep walking, go to your nice warm, quiet room and just drink your tea. Ignore him._ she told herself, but he kept talking and she felt her hackles rising. Finally, she spun and padded back across the thick shag carpet to stand over him at the couch.

"Why do you always insist on being so hateful?" She demanded. "Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe...I may have problems enough without you making my life miserable between the lines of a schedule?" It had been a long day, and an even longer evening, and this awful feeling of dread was creeping up her spine and settling in her chest in a way that Effie knew would never go away.

Her tea sloshed in the mug, dangerously close to spilling over as she flounced around to stand in front of the couch, shoving empty bottles out of the way with her bare foot. "Whether you want to believe it or not, Haymitch Abernathy, there are people in this world who care about you and who need you! Killing yourself actually would matter to someone!" She clenched her eyes shut. "SOME! It would matter to some!"

Haymitch rolled his eyes, throwing himself back down on the couch and blinking away the brief dizzy spell that followed. He enjoyed riling her up usually, it was funny to see, except the odd few occasions she'd slapped him, and that was just counting when he was sober enough to remember.

It was mostly entertaining and he could almost see the hair standing up on her neck, but this time he was just annoyed. He suddenly found every Capitol trait, from wig to eyelashes, twice as annoying as ever and blinked stonily up when she strode right back over to him.

Like he cared at all what she was saying. It was just a hell of a lot easier to be grumpy and mean than nice and kind. Effie irritated him when he couldn't tell what was about to come out of her mouth and that was too frequent for his liking. Now she was claiming people cared about him, right after saying she wouldn't really mind if he did drop dead.

He couldn't even really count Chaff in the people he knew cared about him and with another grunt of effort he pushed himself to his feet, almost close enough to touch Effie and leaned down closer to her level.

"Name one."

There it was. That cold, knotted feeling that filled her stomach and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. He was standing, wobbly, but standing, and close enough that she could smell the liquor on his breath, see the bloodshot redness of his eyes, the glassy glaze that practically hid the color of his normally hazel-grey eyes. It took all her will power to keep still and not step back, put more space between them. If she did that he would count it as weakness, fear, and right now that would only make matters worse.

She'd done it this time. She could tell by the set of his jaw that this would end more serious than it began if she wasn't careful. Her mind raced, her blood going cold as he stared her down without blinking and she licked her lips, wetting them as they suddenly went dry. Her pulse pounded in her throat, she could feel it just above her collar bone as she stared right back up at him, considerably shorter than he was without her heels on her feet.

Name one? Me. She couldn't tell him that, though. ...No matter how much she wanted to. He hated her.

"Pe-Peeta. Peeta cares. You know he does."

He snorted, rolling his eyes and flicking them right back to hers. She was nervous, despite her obvious attempts to cover it up and look just as determined as she obviously wanted to be. He was drunk but he wasn't quite blind, he could see the way her ankled was twitching, her feet shifting, like they wanted to move back and she wouldn't let them.

"I'm not making you 'uncomfortable' am I?"

Haymitch had not the slightest problem invading other people's personal space, it was his own that he guarded like it was his last bottle of liquor. She had no answer, he thought not. Just as he was about to open his mouth and tell her so she stammered out a reply.

He snorted out a low chuckle. "Hauling me back to my room does not const...consi...does not mean caring, princess."

That was just what she was afraid of. No matter who she said he would have something to say to prove it wrong. She scowled,

"He cares and you know it. If you can't tell he cares about you, then maybe you've already drowned in that stuff." She took a sip of her tea and set it down on the table, afraid she'd spill it. Straightening, Effie looked up at him, willing herself to take half a step forward, tilting her head back to better see his icy eyes.

Here. Just take the plunge. How worse could things get? It took a minute, but when she finally found the courage to speak, her voice was soft and she hated herself for the way it trembled. "We've worked together for five years. I've seen you at your lowest...I'm still here, aren't I? I haven't been transferred or asked for another District, have I? You know I've had the chance more than once..."

Haymitch flicked one eyebrow up lazily as she moved still closer, probably only to try and say she was still confident, they were almost touching. She was half right, he had drowned in that stuff. He had drowned in it twenty years ago, give or take a year or two, and just hadn't ever resurfaced.

He shifted his feet slightly, drawing himself up to his full height, wavering unsteadily very slightly and scoffed. "That all you go-"

She cut him off again, her voice noticeably smaller and trembling. What was she nervous of? She'd stuck around almost the longest of the escorts to deal with him. She should be used to it. The longest had managed six years, until Haymitch had flown into a drunken, all out rage after losing two twelve year olds.

He rolled his shoulders, hearing a satisfying crack in his back before he really registered what she said and snapped back sarcastically. "In case you haven't noticed, princess, you hate me."

Effie swallowed hard, gulping back her fear. What was she doing? What was she thinking? If there were cameras in here now... Seneca Crane's words at dinner were careening through her mind, the rumors, the ideas most people had were making him believe her to be the right woman for this job more and more every day. Now she was standing here admitting she cared for the man she was supposed to hate.

"If you can't maintain a level of professionalism, then maybe we'll just find someone who 're unique, Miss Trinket, but not irreplaceable."

She shivered at the memory, the look in Crane's eyes when he said that said far more than his words could. Effie was beyond caring at the moment. She'd come this far, she had momentum...and looking up at the way Haymitch scoffed just then stabbed at her heart. He had been through much, she didn't exactly know what, she'd never had the heart to watch his Games...but she knew he had lost a lot.

...He was alone. And he was determined to stay there.

She dropped her gaze, unable to bear the look in his eyes anymore. "...I don't." She said, her voice just a whisper now as her anger melted. "...I don't hate you..."

She licked her lip again, she didn't know how he'd react, not really...though she had a good guess...and if that guess was correct, this was really going to hurt.

Haymitch blinked again, his eyes every bit as cold as they had been, not letting anything past his shell he had steadily and carefully built up, he wasn't going to let that be broken.

Had she just said...no he'd heard her fine. It wasn't the words, it was the way she had said it. Like she actually cared about him. Which was absurd, it was perfectly clear they hated each other. Before he realized what he was doing, in his drunken state, the mentor threw his head back and let out a loud, sarcastic laugh.

"Ha! You? You don't hate me...that's rich." He sobered spontaneously, all remnants of the laugh gone. "You really should, princess."

And it was true, she shouldn't care for him, he hated people caring about him, because it was almost inevitable that he'd-no. Stop that thought right there. He cared for Katniss and Peeta, he'd admit that, but he knew that, and they were most certainly in danger. Thankfully, that danger wasn't his fault.

Effie closed her eyes and actually flinched at his harsh sounding laugh, preparing herself for whatever barrage of drunkenness he might throw at her. She was one the only person willing to stand up to him and all his hateful attitude until Katniss and Peeta came around. Usually that lead to knock down, drag out fights and something shattering...whether that was her feelings or his liquor bottles, it all depended on what was reached first.

She didn't hate him, she never had. At first he scared her, then he frustrated her, and that was maintained for several years, then grew into familiarity. In the Capitol you didn't have friends, you had pretenders...and as far as she was concerned, with all they'd been through...Haymitch was the closest thing to a friend she had. They understood each other, they knew each other...despite all their fearsome fights.

His laugh stopped abruptly, snapping her eyes back up to his. She should hate him? Why?

"Why?

Haymitch rolled his eyes and stepped backwards several steps, the tension every bit as strong as he half staggered around the other side of the couch. Bending to dig out a half full bottle he remained silent.

Well why shouldn't she hate him? He'd never been nice to her for more than ten minutes at a time, and the odd defense when someone else made a joke, which was very hypocritical of him but he really didn't care. He had certainly never given Effie reason to like him at all.

He straightened up and blinked at her, lifting the bottle to his lips but not taking a gulp. He eyed Effie over once, counting the Capitol elements he couldn't stand. There were quite a few.

"Well why wouldn't you, princess?"

Effie gnawed on a corner of her lower lip, letting it pale beneath her teeth as Haymitch stumbled away and dug out another half empty bottle of whiskey. What did he do? Open them all and drink from them at once?

She noticed him eyeing her, taking in every little bit of her from head to toe and from the sneer on his face, Effie knew he was taking inventory of just how Capitol she appeared. He did it a lot. Usually he pointed it out to her in snide remarks or insults...or jokes at her expense to the tributes.

Why wouldn't she hate him? Good question. He didn't give her many reasons not to hate him...Effie had to take a minute, eyeing HIM up and down, lingering on his face, his hands and his eyes. He always kept one fist clenched, always...as if waiting for the world to leap out and surprise him. As if he always expected someone to attack him.

His eyes hid below fierce brows, always scowling, even in sleep...his smiles, the few times she'd seen him laugh look as if they were a made of glass and if he didn't stop them and return to his anger quickly enough he would shatter. For someone so strong, Effie could see there was someone equally broken underneath all his ice.

She didn't hate him because she understood masks. She had lived with one her whole life, too. Just because she was born in the Capitol and worked for the Capitol, didn't mean she liked the Capitol. She lived in fear every day, but the difference was she pretended she was fine and put on a smile...he fought and growled and fought like a wounded bear.

"Because you deserve to have someone on your side."


	8. Chapter 8

Ha. He didn't really deserve anything. Haymitch didn't think he did. He didn't want anything anyway, preferred being hated.

Why wouldn't she hate him? There was a part of him, however small and insignificant, that was almost curious to hear what answer she could conjure. The drunk had gone almost out of his way to make sure that he wasn't likable, that there wasn't really a chance people would care for him or about him. It was better for them not to. Better for bother parties.

"Just pull that outta your wig, princess...creative."

Haymitch scowled a little deeper, watching her doing the same thing he'd just done and eye him up and down. He swung back the bottle and downed a few gulps, automatically clenching his other fist, his nails digging very slightly into his palm.

She needed to learn to answer faster, unless she didn't have one at all this time. He hoped Effie didn't...then he could be left alone to himself again, it was his favorite place.

Alone.

Effie closed her eyes and fought to keep calm as she watched Haymitch's knuckles go white at his side and his throat work to swallow the large gulps he took from the glass bottle. Her heart was pounding on a rampage in her chest, crashing in her ribs, thundering in her ears, pulsing in her throat...Her mouth and lips suddenly went dry and the only thought she could take hold of was how easy it would be to end this now and just storm off to her room. Just a simple name or insult and he'd be left fuming and she could hide with her tea that she knew had long since gone cold.

Had he put whiskey in her tea kettle while he was drunk again?

Effie gulped, wondering just what had gotten into her. Why this? Why now? She just spent an evening with Seneca Crane, being threatened for unprofessionalism and being unable to control herself with Haymitch, embarrassing the Capitol...he called it. Now, as if the night hadn't been bad enough she was actually telling Haymitch she cared about him? For five years they had worked together, fought together, and yes, sometimes when he was drunk enough they even cried together. She'd seen him at his worst, he'd made her feel her worst, when had she started actually caring about him? Why did she...but she did.

All the questions were irrelevant.

She did care. That was the bottom line. She cared about him despite all his roaring and raging, all his insults and meanness, the items he would throw all around her that never came close to hitting her. She cared that he was alone, that he was in pain and that he suffered. She cared that he never slept through the night without waking up screaming, she cared that he always slept with a knife for fear of...whatever...she cared that he bled liquor...When Effie finally heard his voice again, she looked up, meeting his eyes and holding his gaze despite how much she wanted to turn and just run away from the snide derision in his voice. Something in his eyes stopped her. Something in the way the hardness making the grey seem like ice shifted, faltered, made her confidence flicker. There would be no running tonight. He would know, for better or worse, that she was his friend.

For a long moment, Effie just watched his eyes, taking in the emotion there he tried to hide. His anger was like her wig and make up...a mask. Her outfits masked her fear, painted on smiles and confidence...his anger and liquor masked his hurt, but Effie just didn't know what he'd been through.

Silently, her hands trembling, Effie held her breath and reached up to weave her fingers into the silky pink curls atop her head. She had never let anyone seen her natural appearance in years, not since before...well, not in a very long time. If he wanted to bring up her appearance, use her place as a Capitol woman as a weapon, she would take it away. Her heart sped up again until she was sure it would shatter out of her chest and run away without her as she began removing the pins that held the wig in place. Her bright blue eyes remained locked with his as she finally took out the last pin and dropped it on the table with the others next to her tea mug.

"I have nothing hidden in this wig except a girl who wants to be your friend, Haymitch." she said ever so softly, hating the quiver in her voice. Before he could speak, Effie tugged the pink curls off her head and closed her eyes as she removed the cloth that held her heavy, soft blonde curls in place. They fell as she shook them free, hanging loose and bouncing around her shoulders.

Her breathing was shallow as she fought for her courage. How was he going to react this time? Just how drunk was he? At least she hadn't taken his liquor away for a change... Taking a deep breath, cursing the shake there, Effie finally opened her eyes to meet his and she waited.

Haymitch grunted again and half dazedly staggered aimlessly around the living area. Finally he settled on leaning against the opposite wall while Effie fell again into the simultaneously aggravating and relieving silence. He made it a point to get as drunk as possible as often as possible before he attempted sleep, it usually made it easier. Though not much, and he always woke up swinging his knife and shouting at nothing.

That was the precise reason he preferred to be nocturnal.

He stared at his bare foot with great interest, counting his toes and wondering why he kept seeing a sixth one...that hadn't been there last time he checked...A rustling caught his attention and without moving his head he cut his eyes back over to Effie and frowned as he caught her gaze. What was she doing?

Before he could open his mouth and ask anything, the wig was gone and he had to close his eyes for a moment and reopen them to be sure his eyesight wasn't messing with his drunk she was blonde? Ha...for some reason Haymitch wasn't entirely surprised, it seemed the right color for her. His eyes lingered on her hair for several moments, doing his best to remain completely unreadable. He would never say it, he didn't even want to admit it mentally to himself, but Effie looked a good deal better with blonde hair, despite how odd it looked with the makeup now.

Finally her words reached his ears and with a sigh Haymitch leaned off the wall and purposefully made his way back across the room to lean down over long Capitol lashes blinked rapidly, threatening to tangle together as Haymitch came over and leaned in close. Leaned...it was more like towered. He loomed over her, his scruffy, stubbled face half sneering, half confused as he looked down at her and studied her newly freed hair.

"I don't have friends." He leered closer, making sure she could hear him. "I don't want friends. You're wasting your time."

"Why?" She asked, her voice coming out in a whisper as she forced herself to stand her ground, their faces inches apart. Tiring of being afraid, Effie steeled herself, reaching deep for some inkling of courage. "Why don't you want friends? What's so bad about having someone care for you?"

Haymitch growled slightly in frustration and watched Effie's persistence flash through her eyes, something in her obviously changing. She was still nervous, that was obvious, he could see it in the back of her eyes and the way she shifted her weight slightly when she was trying to be determined. It was better off for everyone if people would just leave him be in his isolation, for some reason, this escort didn't want to see that unless he just spelt it out. Which he was on the verge of doing.

With no regard for any personal space, or maybe it was the alcohol talking Haymitch shifted slightly, leaning closer to her ear, the hair on the back of Effie's neck visibly rising when he did so.

"Just better, princess." He pulled straight back and turned around, taking another swig. "You should leave me alone."

Effie was visibly trembling, she couldn't help it, couldn't stop it, but she refused to back down now. She had come this far, and he wasn't throwing anything yet...he leaned in close, so close she could feel his hot breath against her ear, smelling the alcohol. The way her hair stood on end made her get a little of her anger back, enough to move around to face him when he turned away from her.

"I don't believe you. How long have you been alone? How long can you survive alone, Haymitch?" Something told her he believed what he was saying. He believed it was better for him to be alone, that he...deserved it...somehow. Effie knew better. Nobody deserved that, and she knew, she was certain that whatever he believed, whatever happened to him, it was all thanks to the Capitol.

"I'll decide how I spend my time and whether it has been wasted or not, and I'll decide what I should or shouldn't do...I've worked with you for five years, and I don't intend on going anywhere..." She glared up at him, her blue eyes flashing even as her voice shook. "Whether you like it or not, I care about you, and I'm not going anywhere."

Her blond curls bounced around her shoulders, her face still caked with makeup. She probably looked like a clown to him, now, but she didn't care. This was important. She didn't know how long Crane would leave her alone after the dinner she had with him earlier...she intended to make sure Haymitch knew he wasn't alone, no matter how much he raged and roared that he wanted to be.

"I'm sick of fighting and hating each other..."

Haymitch blinked, thoroughly taken aback when Effie wheeled her way around him and faced him. It was a great contrast to the trembling woman he'd just seen less than twenty seconds ago, her confidence was back and she almost sounded like her normal self again. Save for the fact that this Effie apparently cared what happened to him.

He very nearly took a wobbly step backwards to keep himself upright, but she'd think she was intimidating him, Haymitch really couldn't have that. He remained silent and stony as she told him exactly what she thought. She didn't know anything, she didn't know why it was better and he didn't really want to tell her. Haymitch deserved to be alone, he knew it and he wanted nothing more than to stand by that.

His eyes involuntarily flicked back to her hair again and just as quickly as they did, he turned them back up to meet her eyes, setting his jaw decisively. "I've done this since I was sixteen, princess. Don't. Waste. Your. Time." hat was all she needed to know. Maybe it would put an end to this.

He grunted, and tilted the bottle back up to his lips, disappointedly finding it empty and dropping it to the floor where it clattered with its fellows. It was his turn to ask her a question, he decided. Licking his lips to get the last trickles of liquor, Haymitch drew himself up again. He immediately regretted it, the room beginning to spin and only slowing to a halt after he slouched slightly, dropping his shoulders.

"Why would you possibly care about me anyway, princess?"

When Effie was a young girl, her father took her to a circus show in the middle of the Capitol in a grande and extravagant tent. Everything was holographic, or created by game-makers to be as realistic as possible since most of the animals in the circus had long since been wiped out. One act Effie always remembered was the act with the bear. In the center ring, an enormous old grizzly bear had walked around the circle on all fours, grunting and mumbling and growling as it sniffed at the crowd. It was the one genuinely real animal in the entire show and Effie had fallen in love with it. She remembered he seemed calm, mellow, even gentle...as if he wanted to curl up and sleep and Effie remembered wanting to hug him.

She watched in amazement, holding her father's arm around her for protection as she watched the ring leader take out a long stick with a prod on the end and begin poking the bear. At first the beast tried to get away, turning its head toward the man with the prod, growling and grunting warnings with harmless swipes of its paw...until finally, he had been poked one too many times and erupted in violence and a ferocity Effie found herself terrified to watch.

She hid against her father's chest until it was over.

The five years she had spent with Haymitch Abernathy was remarkably like watching that bear in the ring, only she found herself too often in the shoes of the ring leader with the prodding stick. Now, as she stood before him, his eyes narrowing dangerously, Effie wondered just how how many more times she could poke him before he broke like that bear. Her own personal grizzly. Twenty-four years? He'd been alone so long? Just what happened to him? There would be no father to hide behind if this bear decided to fight back...but Effie pressed on anyway.

"It's my time to waste, so you just forget about it." He moved away, but Effie didn't make any move to follow him this time. She gave him his space, but kept her eyes trained on his, always locked with blue on grey.

"I care about you because no matter how loud you roar, or how hard you try, you can't help but show another side of you from time to time. I've collected the memories..." She sighed, her tense muscles relaxing as hope tickled at her. "I understand about masks, Haymitch...I've had to wear one too."


	9. Chapter 9

What was she saying? Was she really insisting on caring so much? It wasn't worth it, he was never going to care for her, he couldn't care for her. For more reasons than one. Haymitch looked back, chewing on his tongue and once again looked her up and down, his eyes flicking between her and the wig. The clothes, the makeup, the wig, the shoes on the ground...it all screamed Capitol and he'd sooner die than associate himself with the Capitol any further than a mentor for his District.

How hard he tried? Tried to what? To act like a drunken beast? Because that wasn't trying. That was succeeding and and he liked it-took great joy in it. She was partially right, he did wear a sort of mask, only to keep himself in control. to keep himself from running in and throttling President Snow, to keep himself from losing that bit of control and stability he had left, but she couldn't know that. With another grunt he breathed out heavily and turned his body to properly face her again, closing the distance a few more paces.

"Mask, princess? You really think I wear a mask? I'm not the one with the mask, that's your precious Capitol!"

Effie winced. There it was. His easy shot. Ignore the real conversation at hand, the real point, and jump straight to the Great Monster of the Capitol. He stormed her way again and Effie could tell he was far more sober than normal, she couldn't let him see she was afraid, so she squared her shoulders and, placing her manicured nails on her hips and looked up at him, careful of her expression, trying to remain soft.

"We're not talking about the Capitol right now, Haymitch...We're talking about you and me, and how I want to be your friend." Her voice remained soft, all she could do to keep from trembling as he stood over her like he did. "Yes, a mask. You wear a mask...all this anger and rage, this hatred you have for anyone, including yourself...and you glue it all together with that bourbon..."

Tentatively, Effie reached out a hand as if to touch his arm, hesitated, and then lightly let her palm rest on his forearm before taking it off again and crossing her own arms over her chest. It was an awkward, heartfelt gesture that shook her resolve, tempting her with the desire to run away and disappear. ...But, no. She had to keep trying.

"What would be so wrong about taking off that mask?" She whispered pleadingly.

Reflexively he jerked his arm back defensively just before she drew her touch away and Effie visibly flinched.

"A lot, princess." He snapped. "It's a lot better for both of us if you don't care."

_Her precious Capitol..._that was further from the truth than he would ever know, but right now Effie didn't care if he ever cared for her...she just wanted, needed him to know he wasn't alone. He didn't have to be. She didn't have any friends or family, he was the closest she knew to consistency in her life anymore outside of her schedule, as far as people went.

Anyone would think she was trying to get him to quit drinking, lie back on the couch and open up and tell her his life story the way Effie was insisting about his mask. Haymitch didn't even know any other man than the alcoholic, angry man he preferred to be, and the occasional show of affection when things started looking up for him. Katniss and Peeta were the first of his tributes to survive and that meant so very much to Haymitch.

But all he'd known for more than half his life, was how to be alone and cope with his problems. How to exist really, not live, just exist. Haymitch had no desire to try anything else, this worked for him and he would keep on doing it. He would continue trying to protect people by trying to hate them. He did not care for Effie. So why did he have to keep telling himself that? For the briefest of moments his eyes flickered with a rare display of open apprehension and then back to their icy state.

She didn't understand him, she knew what it felt like to lose people, to be alone, afraid...never know what tomorrow might hold. Just because she was from the Capitol, didn't mean she didn't know loss and fear. Better? She had been without any family or friends since she was sixteen years old. It had never once been better...She was tired of it. Tired of the loneliness, tired of the fear...the uncertainty...

"How is it better for you? The alternative hasn't proved to be any nicer for you. What is so wrong about having a friend? Stop evading me and answer the question, Haymitch!"

Too far to turn back now.

"Because it's dangerous!"

He snapped, finally reaching the end of his patience, unable to buy himself anymore time, and it was clear from her tone, Effie was almost out of patience with him. It had lasted surprisingly long...he was genuinely taken aback by how long she'd put up with him. And not just tonight, over the past five years as a whole.

Dangerous for her, dangerous for anyone who wasn't already in danger to be friends with him. He despised the Capitol, he'd definitely done things to anger them, and vice versa. They hated him every bit as much, and took it out on the people around him. THat was until they decided they had quite enough and just killed him, in which case Haymitch would be sure to take them down with him. The drunk kicked himself mentally, he shouldn't have said anything...should have just stormed off to his room and dug out another bottle.

"It's a bad idea, princess, to care for me. It's dangerous for you, so don't."

Her heart fluttered. Now they were getting somewhere! She smiled in spite of herself, feeling tired from the day but wanting to press on. Maybe they could get somewhere properly.

"I'll give you some grace because you were drunk for half of this..." She wanted to lighten the mood, but realized that was probably a lame attempt. "...But it's too late. I already care."

"I still am drunk." He grunted, nudging the empty bottles furiously around with his feet, resisting the urge to pick one up and throw it hard at the wall. He was still drunk, and sometimes cursed himself for being able to sober up enough to speak and hear coherently when the situation demanded it.

He didn't care. He didn't care. He couldn't care. Haymitch growled low in his throat, running a hand through his hair in frustration and rounded on her, that flicker of apprehension back in his eye for a moment.

"Don't. And if you insist on it, don't you blame me, if something happens to you, princess!"Effie shook her head, trying to hide the way her muscles twitched as he kicked bottles around and spun on her. He seemed much bigger all of a sudden, as if he grew as his temper rose. He had been alone for so long, though, and for five years Effie had seen him suffer, punishing himself as much as he tried to punish the Capitol. There was something buried in him, deep down under layers of ice and stone...

There were times Effie found herself watching him when he was not aware, his eyes far away as he sipped from his glass or simply held it loosely in his fingers. She always wondered what he was thinking, some days he looked utterly blank, others he looked as though he had water filling his eyes, but those were only on days when he were very drunk.

Effie blinked, returning to the moment at hand, especially as he looked half crazed. "I thought it was only dangerous if you cared for me?" She retorted, rising to his challenge. "Besides," Effie shook her head and leaned around him to take up her teacup and took it back to the kitchen. She would need another if she intended to sleep tonight.

"...If anything were to happen to me, you wouldn't be highest on the list of potential reasons why."

She turned her back on him as she reheated the tea kettle on the glared at her back fiercely, like that specific part of her had wronged him in some great way. She didn't get to just walk away from this now, not when he'd been wanting to do it the whole time, if anyone got to leave it would be him.

"It's a damn good thing I don't care."

He growled, kicking another bottle out of his way. He wished that statement were as true as he made it sound. He wished he could hate Effie as much as he hated the others, as much as he should hate her. He wouldn't really say that he was attracted to her, or that he had any intention of being civil...but he didn't despise her.

He'd had enough, his head was spinning and he was beginning to have trouble discerning the couch from the floor. Maybe he was more drunk than he thought...

Haymitch grunted, his anger was getting the better of him and he need to end this before it could go any further. Without another word he ran a hand through his hair down to the back of his neck and let it linger for a moment in frustration.

"We're done, princess!" He snapped as the kettle began to sing "Don't care about me, I ain't saying it again."

Effie could feel his eyes on her back, taking the steaming, whistling kettle and pouring it into her cup, splashing it over the teabag. Somewhere behind her, Effie heard bottles clinking together, heavy and uncertain footfalls staggering forward, Haymitch grunting. Adding the sugar and cream, Effie turned and stirred her cup, watching him from soft blue eyes. He looked utterly trapped, as if he had been set up for an ambush.

"All right, Haymitch. We can be done." She nodded and crossed over to the couch, taking up the hair pins and cloth and putting them in the cap of the wig before gathering it up in one hand. She was standing close, closer than she gave herself credit for, her shoulder practically touching his chest when she looked up at him and sipped her tea. "...for tonight. But that doesn't change the fact that I meant what I said."

She moved away, heading toward her room before turning and facing him one more time. "I'm tired of fighting, and I'm tired of hating each other. Whether you like it or not, I do care about you, and I am your friend. Goodnight."

Haymitch screwed up his nose in the effort to see straight. It wasn't really helping much, he could barely tell if Effie was in front of him or not even when her shoulder brushed him. Now it was his turn to feel uncomfortable with their proximity, he had double standards. Immense ones, but he was never comfortable when other people were that close to him unless he initiated it. Call it heightened nerves and a lack of trust, but that wasn't about the change. Finally Effie moved away and he slumped down onto the couch, his legs straight out in front of him and a deep scowl on his face.

"No I'm not!" He called, a little more slurred than before and grabbed his knife from the coffee table, twirling it between his fingers again, the point very nearly slicing his fingers.

He waited, glaring at the knife until he heard her door close before groaning and slumping his head back. He ran his free hand over his face and closed his bloodshot eyes. He didn't need this, he didn't want to deal with this too...it was too bloody confusing for him. For another half an hour Haymitch just sat there like that, occasionally mumbling words he didn't even recognize at the ceiling. It wasn't much longer before he passed out, knife in hand and stomach down on the couch.

They had a meeting at ten o'clock sharp the next morning and Effie had been up since 6:30 getting her hair and makeup and everything else together. By the time she heard people milling about, the avoxes and stylists, Effie was about to come out and have her morning coffee. Before she could open the door, however, a nervous knock sounded and she hurried to see who it was.

"Sorry, Miss Trinket..." a blue skinned stylist stammered. "...But, Mr. Abernathy is asleep on the couch...and we don't know how to wake him..."

Translation: We're afraid to go near him.

Effie heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers. "All right, all right." she said at last as she looked down at the girl considerably shorter without heels.

"I'll wake Haymitch, but you be sure there is very strong coffee waiting." The girl brightened with relief and moved aside to let Effie go down the hall before her.

Effie reached the living room and made a shushing noise to the people clustered in the kitchen, sending them a scolding glare as they huddled together as far from Haymitch as possible. The drapes were still drawn closed, and Haymitch lay sprawled on his stomach, face squashed into the cushions and snoring softly. She sighed heavily, wondering how to go about this...she had never woken him up without knocking on a door before. Removing her heels, Effie silently padded over and crouched beside his shoulder, studying his face quietly for a minute. It was amazing...even in sleep he looked tense and angry...

"Haymitch?" she said quietly, "Haymitch, it's time to wake up." Normally she just wrapped on the door and called to him, but for some reason, this scenario seemed to call for gentler methods. He didn't stir, and Effie slowly reached out and placed a soft hand on his shoulder, rubbing once gently. "Hay-"

_Blood...laughing...feral cries of victory...and more blood. He literally couldn't escape any of it...the moment Haymitch's eyes closed, the more vulnerable he was to nightmares. To hearing the screams of the people he killed and the people he watched die._

_It was harder at night, and why he so often woke up screaming or flailing, shouting incoherent threats into the air against invisible enemies. That was Haymitch's curse. He'd beaten the Capitol, he'd killed people and now he was paying for it, and had been since the moment he was lifted from the arena, delirious, animalistic and covered in blood._

_He twitched in his sleep, the hand not clutching the knife grabbing at the cushions, trying to keep the strong hands of a Career from strangling him. Someone screamed and it all melted away, Haymitch felt himself clutching desperately at Maysilee's bloody hand, heard himself roar vengeance. It all melted again and Haymitch could feel sweat running down his forehead...slipping out of the dream long enough to clarify that was real. _

_If possible it felt worse in his nightmares, the last opponent's axe dug into his stomach and the pain rushed through Haymitch again and again. He could have died...he should have died why wasn't he dying? It would have been so much easier. But even in his nightmares haymitch never died, he just watched everyone else do that for him._

Someone was touching him and he felt his heart racing faster, a hand on his shoulder. That was real. No...another Career?

With a roar of fury Haymitch snapped awake, grabbing at the hand and flipping his assailant in one fluid, practiced move so he leered over them, knife at her neck. Her neck?Everything happened in a rush, all at once. She didn't even have time to scream. Pain laced through her arm as his fingers dug in and all the wind rushed from her her lungs as Effie was suddenly pinned between Haymitch and the couch, his arm pressing painfully hard over her chest, pinning her roughly and the harsh cold steel of his knife against her throat.


	10. Chapter 10

Effie yelped, her heart stopping and starting and flattened her hands against his chest, eyes wide-

"Haymitch! Haymitch, it's all right! It's me!" The words flew out of her mouth as she frantically searched his face, focussing on his eyes, begging him to see her. "It's Effie, Haymitch! You're safe! It's all right!"

He heard her before he saw her, knees digging into the couch either side of her, his arm pressing down harshly on her chest. It was definitely a woman. She knew him...wait...Slowly the feral, furious gleam in his eyes faded and he became aware of his surroundings. It was no hardwood floor, or the leaves and twigs of a forest beneath his knees...and this wasn't the arena, or his home... Haymitch's set jaw softened and his scowl dropped when he realized the woman he had very nearly slit the throat of wasn't attacking him,

"Effie?" Oh God...in a flash he'd pulled his knife off her throat, removed his weight and scooted up off the couch quickly, his grey eyes holding a mix of shock, horror and he almost couldn't breathe. The more she spoke, the more his weight bore down on her. She held his eyes, but he wasn't there, not the Haymitch she knew. This was the Haymitch behind all that, the hurt Haymitch, the scared Haymitch...the Haymitch still trapped in that horrible arena. Effie's heart broke for him, then she felt the blade resting against her throat again and her pulse raced, bringing her back to reality.

Somewhere behind the couch, she could hear the stylists panicking, someone shouting her name, someone shouting at Haymitch, another shouting for the one male stylist to do something and then a chorus of, "Call a peacekeeper!" pierced Effie's ears.

She gasped, desperate to stop them before they did anything, not daring to move, barely daring to blink for fear of Haymitch thinking she was trying to fight him. Even in her worry to stop them, Effie couldn't take her eyes away from Haymitch's face...His features slowly softened as if he were fighting some inner struggle with himself until finally the fierce, feral snarl, the crazed look of survival melted away and recognition dawned like morning.

He said her name and scrambled away from her, standing and looking completely lost. Effie slowly sat up, swinging her legs back off the couch, her hand instinctively going to her throat, relieved to find he hadn't drawn blood. With her other hand, the escort waved the stylists off and pushed herself up to her feet, trembling badly from head to foot.

"I'm all-" she closed her eyes, tried to gain control of her nerves as the adrenaline rushed through her and made the shaking worse. "I'm all right!" She said loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Nobody is calling anyone." She turned to the stylists and avoxes. "All of you, out. Not a word about this, do you understand me? Never. Mention it." They all nodded furiously. "You're services are no longer needed today, you may go." They hesitated and she shot out an arm, a long blue fingernail thrust toward the door.

"GO!"

They rushed at once, trampling each other to get to the door, Effie watching them go until they were all out. Swallowing hard, she turned back to Haymitch and her heart melted at the sight of him. "Are you all right?"

Haymitch blinked at the floor, staring at one of the empty bottles an avox had missed that had rested just below his hand on the floor. He wasn't sure what he felt, it was certainly not the first time somebody had woken up, but whoever did never tried it again. At least, not within reach of his arm.

He didn't miss the alarmed and almost dark look one of the stylists shot at him, and cut his eyes up to glare at him, making him leave faster. It was a very tense silence that followed as the door swung closed. He could feel Effie's eyes on him, hear the nervous edge in her voice, and he didn't blame her for either.

Haymitch wasn't sure what he felt, he was almost ashamed of himself, but surely she couldn't have expected him to wake up pleasantly? Even his hangover didn't hurt half as much as it normally would. Pressed to the side for now, possibly even startled away. He did feel a little guilty, he wouldn't admit it, but he did, he very nearly killed Effie...at least he didn't seem to have drawn blood.

Ignoring her question he slowly walked past her, avoiding looking at her and remaining completely silent, his knife still clenched in his right hand as he attempted to get his heartrate under dropped her gaze as he walked by, stepping aside to give him his space. Something told her he needed it right now. She couldn't read him at all, she had never seen him so uncertain, so awkward, and as he walked passed her, she kept her back to him for a few seconds before turning, clasping her hands in front of her to stop the shaking.

It wasn't working.

"It's all right, it was my fault," she said lamely. "I didn't mean to startle you like that." She looked up at his back as he continued walking. "Can I get you anything?"

He wasn't speaking and Effie fought with herself to go after him, resolving to simple stand there biting the same corner of her lip that she always did, fully aware she was ruining her lipstick.

"We, uh...we have a meeting...at ten." Perhaps going on as if nothing happened? "...I'd cancel, but if we miss it, or if we're late..." She flattened a hand over her stomach, the nerves transitioning from shakes to nausea as she remembered the look in his eye as he pinned her and the feel of that knife against her throat... she gulped, "...I'll be in quite a lot of trouble." The way her voice shook, she sounded more like she were apologizing and asking for his help all at the same time.

If only she could cancel and wipe everything off the schedule. Today was not going to be an easy nodded silently and cringed at the idea of meetings now. Haymitch closed his eyes for a moment, his back to her and leaning on the edge of the small bar, stabbing the knife into it to stand upright.

Move passed it, he was being ridiculous. Ordinarily he could just pull himself away and then yell at the almost victim that it was their fault and they should know better. It was a method that worked every time, and it was easy. Heaving a breath out through his teeth, the drunk flicked his hair out of his eyes and leaned down to pull out a glass and another bottle of bourbon. When in doubt, drink, hangover or no hangover. Pouring the amber liquid and watching it slosh into the glass Haymitch bit his upper lip for a moment and wheeled around, retreating back into his harsh, yet very homely shell.

"Don't do that, I could have killed you." Without waiting for another word from Effie, he lifted the glass to his lips, took an abnormally small gulp and wheeled around for his room, tugging his knife back on the way.

Effie watched him go, her hand brushing over her throat where the knife had been. That had been too close, but more than the knife at her throat, it was the look in his eyes that made her pause. He looked guilty, ashamed, completely and utterly exposed. Effie wanted nothing more than to tell him it was all right, that it would be all right and make whatever created those feelings to go away. With a sigh, she chose to just let him go and she rose to her feet and began preparations for their meeting later.

* * *

He was still drinking.

Still!

Effie sipped at her water and watched Haymitch almost nervously as the meeting progressed. It was a sponsor meeting, touching base on how the funds were being spent, general ring kissing to keep them invested and feeling appreciated and invaluable. Haymitch had been quiet, but brooding, staring at the table between taking large gulps from his flask.

"Mr. Abernathy?" A lady simpered with a flirting smile, leaning closer to him, "Mr. Abernathy, I have been simply dying to know...is there any special lady in your life?"

Effie nearly choked on her lunch. The question clearly masking an even bolder question of, _"Would you like there to be?"_

Effie's eyes shot to Haymitch's face, praying he wouldn't react the way she feared he would...and afraid of what he would say at narrowed his eyes at the silver salt shaker, half wondering what would happen if he less than subtly switched it with the sugar. Thankfully nobody seemed too keen on talking to him and left him to himself. He was really just a space filler and hadn't said more than five words in the whole hour they'd been there.

He could feel Effie's blue eyes on him, see the way her hand kept unconsciously flicking up to her throat for a moment, as though she were afraid there was a scar there. Just a little longer, he kept telling himself. Just a little longer and he'd get out of there and be able to breathe again.

He heard his name, and that effectively snapped him out of his thoughts. Leaning back slightly, throwing his unoccupied arm over his side and cutting his eyes over to the blue haired woman leaning over the table.

_What?_ That was not a question he had expected...and not one he really wanted to be asked either. _Of course there wasn't, there hadn't been for twenty four years and it was unlikely there would be again._

The woman's plasticky features stretched as she smiled again, waiting for an answer and Haymitch tilted his head. She was flirting with him? A woman from the Capitol was flirting with _him_? He didn't consider himself a very attractive catch, and he was barely dressed acceptably.

With a sigh, Haymitch arched an eyebrow "Not for a long time, and you're not gonna be one."

Effie's breath caught in her throat, hiccuping around the water she nervously sipped as her eyes darted around the table at the four sponsors and Haymitch. He took a long while to reply, and Effie could tell it was not for having to think about how to word the question. No, he was far away, still very distracted after the rude awakening she had given him that morning.

Finally he spoke, his words surprisingly controlled and barely slurred and a small pause followed until the sponsors broke out in laughter. "Oh, he's positively beastly! Doesn't he just excite you, Mildred?" the blue haired girl laid a dainty hand over her chest.

Haymitch rolled his eyes and fell back into his brooding state, pretending he didn't hear their next comment. He couldn't tell if that woman was being genuine or just making fun of him, the latter seemed more plausible but Haymitch didn't really care at all either way. He wasn't even slightly interested, neither of them were attractive by...well...normal standards.

'Mildred', a girl with vibrantly lilac hair, and some form of...sparkles spread across the side of her face, giggled shamelessly with her friend. She had to be literally half his age, couldn't be older than twenty one at the oldest. And the other woman had to be about Effie's age.

Effie couldn't laugh with them. Not at all...and at that moment she had never been more grateful for her thick white makeup. She looked at Haymitch, mouthing an apology and made to take up her wallet that also served as her computer and scheduler.

"Oh, look at the time! I do apologize, but I'm afraid it is time for us to go. Meetings, meetings, meetings..." She shrugged and smiled to them all and started to stand.

"Nonsense! You can certainly spare a few more minutes...You haven't even had desert!" One of the two men, one with green hair waved her off carelessly, as though she had no say in the matter. He had a harsh face, sharp and angular with mint green eyebrows tattooed into place and swirling mint green sideburns tattooed just like his eyebrows.

Effie faltered, her smile wavering. "Oh, but I really can't be late, it would be terribly bad manner-"

"I said-" he cut her off, pinning her in place with his eyes. "-you can spare a few minutes. Have desert." A command, not a request. Effie stiffly returned to her seat, unaccustomed to being spoken to in such a manner, as though he owned her, or she were his servant.

The man leaned back on two chair legs for a moment and clattered forward when Effie made to get up. Did that mean they could leave? Nope...one of the men had just snapped and promptly set her down again. Less than discreetly Haymitch scoffed, drawing all eyes to him and lifting his flask back to his mouth.

"There's manners for ya..."

He shifted one leg under the tabled and twitched slightly, something was nibbling his shoe. Instinctively he stiffened and drew his foot back, resisting the urge to kick whatever it was. A moment later, a bright pink, long haired dog emerged from under the table, tilting its head up at Haymitch who screwed up his nose and ignored the animal. The green haired man let his eyes lazily wander to meet Haymitch's disapproving gaze.

"We don't pay you for etiquette tips, even if we did need them for addressing the hired help."

Effie's face clouded with offense. _Hired help?_ She was not the _hired help_. She was an independent woman! Her eyes dropped to her hands clasped prettily in her lap and tried not to show her feelings being hurt. _Hired help..._as if she didn't matter at all all.

The blue haired girl shifted in her seat, leaning closer to Haymitch, her wrist draped over the arm of his chair, one finger tracing the pocket of his jacket.

"Really now," She simpered and brought the conversation back to her very determined topic. "-does the rugged victor have a sordid and tragic past?" She batted her abnormally large and curled lashes at him in her most practiced attempt at seduction.

Haymitch stiffened considerably and drummed his fingers on the table when the girl leaned over again. He was rapidly losing his patience and flinched back when she tried to touch his chest.

How dare she ask that, as though she expected an answer. Like he would tell her anything.

"Don't touch me or I'll give you sordid and tragic!" He snapped, glaring darkly at her and shifting further to the other side of his chair away from her. She was annoying him, they all were, very quickly. He wasn't in any sort of mood for this. The blue haired girl shifting back with an awkward frown, growled slightly in disappointment. She wasn't used to being told no, not getting her way.

Effie's eyes snapped up to watch Haymitch's face. how dare she ask him that...what was this... some kind of sick joke? She made to stand, folding her napkin and placing it on her half touched plate. "We really must-"

The green haired man slammed a hand on the table. "Sit down!" He commanded sharply, making Effie start and drop back into her seat, wide eyed. "Or need I remind you who supplies your way of life?" He smiled derisively. "Or is it that you just don't like to share?" He looked snidely back to Haymitch, his eyes almost challenging as a tension fell among the table.

Haymitch jumped very slightly, not even visibly when a hand slammed down onto the table and Effie dropped back down, wide eyed. That was it, Haymitch wasn't going to take it anymore, he was out of patience and the next person to say something was going to set him off.

Green Hair did it. Another implication, another snide look, Haymitch stood up and slammed his own palm down on the table, knocking over Mildred's glass with the force.

"I'm gonna tell you once, shut up!"


	11. Chapter 11

Effie glanced around nervously as the peacekeepers at the edges of the restaurant courtyard began edging their way toward the commotion. This was going very wrong, very quickly. She chanced reaching out and placed a calming hand on Haymitch's arm, not thinking of how it might appear.

"This is all just a missunderstanding...We'll just go now and pretend none of this happened. We'll start over." She stood and tugged at his arm, gripping her wallet in her other hand.

Haymitch twitched again when Effie put a hand on his arm, ignoring the look the girl he'd creatively dubbed "Blue Girl" shot her. He didn't like being touched unless he was comfortable with it. He was not comfortable with this entire situation and wanted nothing more than the lunge over the table and punch that man sneering at them.

Effie glanced around, smiling a tight lipped smile at the peacekeepers who were watching closely, ready to intervene at any moment. The sponsors were smirking up at Haymitch and Effie with a smug sort of confidence, the green one never taking his eyes off of Haymitch, not even when he waved them away with a dismissive motion of the hand. Slowly, Haymitch drew back, taking his palms off the table and taking a step back with Effie as she tugged on his arm. They'd just turned around and taken a few tense steps when Haymitch's patience reached its end. No one said anything else, but he could feel the sneers and stares at the back of his head.

That's all Effie needed, "Come along then, let's be off, shall we?"

Hang the peacekeepers, hang the consequences, it didn't matter to him, he could put up a fight just fine. Haymitch whirled around and took three long strides back to the other side of the table, without a second thought he brought his fist back and slammed it into the sponsor's jaw. A sharp yelp leapt from Effie's throat and her hands flew to her mouth. He didn't...they had been so close...he had just...He-she looked around, gaping and wide eyed as silence fell for several precious seconds, as though time had frozen in place. Then chaos broke out and the sponsors screamed for the peacekeepers.

"Haymitch!" Effie screamed and hurried to him, trying to shove the peacekeepers back long enough to talk to them, to explain, but one grabbed her roughly by one arm and jerked her back.

"This is just a mistake, a missunderstanding!"

With a feral snarl, Haymitch glared around at the other sponsors, daring them to try and say anything or do anything against him. Three more sets of wide eyes stared back at him before all hell broke loose and one of the girls screamed.

Green Hair frantically scrambled back, completely shocked and running his hands over his face as though checking it were all still intact...which it wouldn't be had Haymitch not been hauled back by a peacekeeper.

He vaguely registered Effie's voice trying to stop...well...everyone, and knew it would go unnoticed. Not that he minded, he wasn't entirely opposed to giving these peacekeepers what they had coming. Showing the Capitol he wasn't ever going to be one of those show dogs like most other Victors ended up being.

Twisting out of the restraining hands, he whirled around to take a swing, just missing and resulting in his knuckles clipping the white helmet, taking a little skin with them. He managed a few solid hits in before an elbow met his eye. Haymitch saw stars for a moment and felt another two pairs of hands trying to pull him back. Oh no...no that guy wasn't getting away with that.

From the side, Effie was still being held in the vice grip of a white clad soldier as he kept her back.

"Stop it! This entirely uncalled for! A missunderstanding! This is distasteful!" She shouted anything she could think of, anything that would come to mind. Haymitch was fighting three peacekeepers, dodging, ducking, throwing fists, and then one clipped him with an elbow in the eye and Effie gasped. "Dont' hurt him! Just let me explain! We can settle this peacefully!"

The one holding her arm let her go in order to go help his comrades get Haymitch under control, but there was no stopping him. The scruffy victor had jerked free and was lunging for the one that elbowed him. Haymitch growled fiercely, his blood boiling, but this was his chance to vent it all. Vent all his anger as best he could by taking it out on the peacekeepers and hang the consequences...there would definitely be some and the longer he went on, the worse they would be.

The victor didn't care at all, he was inwardly very pleased with his fist that made contact with someone's jaw or gut, the latter of which probably hurt his hand more than anything due to their armor. Finally he wrenched himself free and lashed out at the man who'd hit him successfully, pulling back his had to stop, she had to stop it or something horrible would her heart pounding in her ears, Effie acted without thinking and just as Haymitch pulled back his fist, Effie threw herself in front of the peacekeeper it was meant for.

"Everybody just calm...down!" she shouted, throwing out her hands to placate them.

He barely managed to stop himself, performing an awkward hop as he struggled to stop his momentum the moment Effie got in the way. What was she playing at? Couldn't she even leave him be when he was fighting?

"Move." He snarled, lowering his fist slightly and vaguely registering the feeling of numbness start to seep over his left gulped, frowning apologetically as Haymitch scowled back at her from beneath dark brows...and there was the trembling again. That made twice in one day she had come far too close to the receiving end of Haymitch's violence. Two peacekeepers took their chance while he was distracted and immediately had a hold of his arms, forcing him into submission...She barely had the strength to shake her head no when he ordered her to move and, even though she kicked herself for it, Effie was grateful when the peacekeepers pulled him back and held him still.

Breathing hard from shock, trembling even worse than ever, Effie held up her hands and inched forward a step, her high heels wobbling as her nerves were completely shot. "He's drunk...he's stone drunk," she placed a hand over her heart and another to her forehead.

One of the peacekeepers, to his credit, saw the state she was in and helped her to a seat, offering her a glass of water. He must be new.

"Thank you so very much," she cooed up at him, sipping the water slowly. "He's completely drunk, he doesn't know what he's doing..." She glared at Haymitch subtly, enough he could notice, daring him to say anything that would mess this up. Haymitch glared at her darkly, why did she keep doing this? In one day he'd nearly killed her and then nearly punched her, not that he didn't secretly threaten to throttle her...but he wouldn't actually do that.

He caught her hint but wasn't entirely on board with it. He was tipsy, yes, borderline drunk but he really didn't feel like cooperating with anyone, however easy it would be to act dead drunk.

"Just...I'll take responsibility for all of this...I'm so very sorry, just let me take him home and I assure you that it won't happen again."

He settled for struggling noncommittally and snarled under his breath. "Let. Me. Go."

They didn't and he struggled again, tearing against their grip, contrary to what he liked to think he wasn't actually stronger than two of them. Was Effie even acting? He couldn't tell...it looked like she might actually be in shock, if she wasn't she was doing a very good job of persuading them. Slowly, the restraining holds loosened and Haymitch struggled out of it, barely managing to keep himself from lunging at them again.

"Fine." One of the peacekeepers agreed at last. "If he tries anything like this again, we'll have to lock him up. Victor or not." The leader said firmly while two of his men kept a watchful eye on Haymitch in case he should try anything.

Effie nodded, swallowing hard and fanning herself with one hand, really wishing she could stop the trembling that was coarsing through her body. She wasn't entirely in shock, but nearly being punched in the face had given her a weakened, but similar affect to having a knife to her throat.

Haymitch snarled at the guards, and Effie shot him a pleading look until they had edged away. The restaurant owner came over, staying very clearly away from Haymitch as he addressed Effie.

"Miss Trinket, though I am well aware you have given us nothing but the best in patronage, I'm afraid I will have to ask you not to return in the future. It's just..." he looked around at the staring people as they walked and milled around. "...Bad for business. You understand."

He hurried off, leaving Effie trembling in her seat, eyes filling with tears of shame and shock. After a moment of trying to control her emotions, she could see it was a losing battle and stood, drawing in a shaking deep breath. "Well, then...I suppose we should make our way back to the apartment."

Drawing herself up to her full height, Effie gathered her things and looked at Haymitch before leading the way. He was just debating lunging at them again, it was a very effective method of stress release and he still had a lot of anger and stress, probably always would. He wasn't even sure why he didn't leap at them. He didn't care about being locked up, but he just wanted to go home to 12 as soon as possible and this was probably not the way to go about doing that.

He didn't even spare Effie another look. He couldn't afford to encourage her caring for him, he didn't want her falling into the delusion that they were friends. Haymitch had one friend, and he was a victor too with only one hand, he really wasn't going to be in much more danger because of Haymitch.

Reluctantly he waited several steps before following Effie out, glaring at anything and anyone that caught his eye. His left was smarting quite a bit and he had to pause ever few minutes to gather himself and try to focus. It would be fine by tomorrow, these were just the beginnings of a black eye.

He didn't say anything, intentionally remaining a few paces behind Effie at all times so she didn't see him pausing. Until a dull pain started in his abdomen and he had to stop and lean against the nearest solid thing. One of the punches from a peacekeeper had struck his old scar, not reopening the wound, that would take a much worse blow, but enough to cause pain.

"Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear..." Effie chanted quietly to herself as her high heels pocked furiously down the street. She poured over her wallet computer, scanning it as quickly and thoroughly as she could for any signs that the restaurant might have been broadcasting with Haymitch being there.

Seneca would hear of this for sure. She was as good as gone. Too many things had gone wrong with the District 12 group this year, and she had no doubts Crane would be taking it out on her very soon. Suddenly noticing Haymitch was abnormally quiet, Effie paused mid step, turning and looking back at him. "We should really get back to-" He was leaning against the wall of a building, seemingly in pain.

"Are you all right?" The next second, Effie was at his side, a hand on his arm before she even thought about what she was clenched his jaw, breathing through his teeth for a moment and trying to fight off the pain. It hurt a good deal more than he'd expected, like someone was slowly inserting a syringe into his scar, only a duller and not as sharp.

He closed his eyes for a moment and tilted his head back against the wall when he saw Effie turning back. Great, that wasn't very subtle of him was it? He heard her heels tapping closer and then she was touching him again. She was doing that a lot lately. He twitch away and opened his eyes, trying to ignore the pain but instinctively pressing a palm to his gut in an effort to ease the pain, it helped slightly.

"Fine."

In an attempt to prove it he leaned forward and pulled off the wall, he could walk fine, his vision was blurring and spinning less often now. Just his luck he managed a few steps before letting out another loud hiss. He swore, she wasn't going to believe frowned, looking deeply concerned as she gave him space to walk passed. He didn't get very far, clearly in pain, and a lot of it. Had they injected him with something? Cut him somewhere? Had their been a shot? Had they had silencers on their guns?

"You're not fine, Haymitch. Come on, give me your arm, you can lean on me. Should I call a car?"

"No need. I'm fi...this really shouldn't hurt so much..." He added the last half under his breath, determined to go on without her help, there's wasn't any point in calling a car, as soon as he sat down he'd be alright ten minutes later.

Ignoring her offer to help he swallowed it and kept moving forward, fighting back winces. He should have a higher tolerance for pain than this, this was nothing, it was just a punch. Twenty years ago he'd think nothing of this, Effie sighed and shook her head, following along with him.

"You look terrible." She said honestly. Without another word, and her worry for him rising, Effie took him by the elbow and slipped her arm around his waist. "Just shut up and let me help you. It's no worse than you carrying me home in the rain, grouchy old bear." She sighed, expecting to be cursed, shoved away, anything, but she held him gently. "Just lean on me, its not that far."


	12. Chapter 12

There were so many issues Haymitch had with letting her help him, not the least of which was the little pride he had left. He had no desire for Effie Trinket to help him, it would only encourage her if he did. ...But the pain was alarming, it nearly scared him that he'd lost that much of his tolerance. Very reluctantly he let a little of his weight drop when she all but ordered him to let her help, going so forward as to wrap an arm around him.

If he leaned on her too much he was liable to make her fall over, especially in those spindly shoes, he wasn't exactly light.  
Effie suppressed a smile when she felt him lean on her just enough to show he did in fact need the help. But now that he was letting her support his weight, Effie was having trouble balancing on the nearly seven inch heels and she paused,

"Just a minute," She said with a grunt as she reached down and brought first one foot up, then the other and removed the shoes to go in just her stockings. She continued on with Haymitch, "You shouldn't have hit that man."

She hated the way her fear shook her voice, the way she was still trembling and how she was sure he could probably feel it. Add that to the list of things he would find wrong with her, she was a weak little coward. Shifting her weight to better support him, trying to be careful not to make his pain worse, Effie gripped his shirt in one hand, her shoes in the other hand.

"People have said and done worse things than him, you've never punched them in meetings."

Haymitch growled slightly, trying not to take too many blows to his pride as he slowly let his right arm rest over Effie's shoulders, he actually valued the little he had left. He wasn't above getting drunk and passing out in a gutter, but he didn't at all like having to allow Effie to help him home. He would have gotten back eventually, slower, but still.

Haymitch wished he was drunk enough to not be aware of this, the amount of times people had been forced to drag or carrying him...he rarely remembered it. But he was all too sober this time, hardly tipsy, and he wouldn't be forgetting this any time soon.

"Push me too much and I'll get sick of it." He grunted, tugging his flask out with his free hand and draining the little left in it before returning it to his pocket. "Just happened to be now, princess."

She was right, there had definitely been worse things said about him to his face and usually he wasn't overly bothered. At least, not outwardly. Inwardly he was being poked too much, tested, and the combination of the girl's flirting and Green Hair's treating them like dogs had gotten to him.

"Did a lot of good, too." She grunted sarcastically as he added the weight of his arm draping over her shoulders. It vaguely occured to the pink haired escort just how much bigger he was than her, the lack of her heels didn't help matters.

"A black eye, scuffed up knuckles and who knows what else..." Her tights were being picked and gaining holes on the bottom of her feet as she padded along with him over the side walk. Thankfully their building was just a few doors down now and the doormen saw them coming. By the time they reached the elevator, Effie was winded and...heaven for bid, sweating a little.

"You're a lot bigger than I thought you were..." She muttered, taking out her silk handkerchief and dabbing lightly at her face and neck as the silver doors closedHaymitch scowled deeper, pulling off of her as soon as the elevator doors closed and leaning up against the wall, one arm still over his stomach. It was beginning to subside now but the dull ache was still there and he could almost feel his eye purpling.

"Well you didn't have to help, y'know." And he hadn't asked for it nor wanted it. From then the Victor decided he must have been more drunk than he thought after all to allow her to help him like that. He didn't even like her putting a hand on his arm.

With a grunt, Haymitch said nothing more and closed his eyes, wincing and reopening them as the blackening one began to twinge. Finally the elevator let out a ding, signally their arrival and the doors swung open. Waiting for her to get out, Haymitch leaned off the wall and slipped through just at as the silver doors began to close again.

"Right, as though I could just leave you to be arrested and beaten, and not in that order, might I add..." She shook her wigged head and went into the kitchen, dropping her shoes beside the counter.

Grabbing up a cloth, Effie wet it with cool water and took some ice from the freezer and brought it over to Haymitch. The trembling had finally subsided and now she wanted a cup of tea, but the pain he had been in was a little worrisome. Perhaps offering a token of peace might get him talking a little...Going over to the small cabinet under the window, Effie took out a crystal bottle filled with amber liquid and poured a glass half full and brought that over to Haymitch as well.

"What was it about your abdomen that hurt you so much?" She looked him up and down, checking for blood. "Should I call a medic?"

He dropped back on the couch the moment he got in, tilting his head back and squinting slightly against the pain in his eye. Tugging his flask out of his pocket he tossed it onto the coffee table and settled back against the cushions considerably more comfortably.

Haymitch was actually grateful for the ice when Effie brought it out, thought he didn't say so and just took it. Adjusting the cloth so it wrapped the ice in snuggly, Haymitch lifted and held it to his black eye, keep his head craned back for a few moments. He was right, sitting dulled the pain in his stomach immensely, he wouldn't be able to feel it at all in a few minutes.

Her feet padded back across the floor to him and Haymitch tilted his head forward again, glancing her up and down again, from her stockings that were fast beginning to fray and develop holes and made the second pair ruined in under a week, to her pink wig and then the glass in her hand. He accepted it and downed half of the contents in one go, sighing in relief at the burning down his throat.

"S'nothing, just a scar there." He grunted, seeing no point in being secretive about his wounds, he wasn't really short of them.

Effie sat as far from him on the couch as possible, curled up in the corner, leaning her head against her fist and resting her elbow on the back of the cushions. She watched him as he quietly nursed his wounds, and how he downed half the contents of the glass to nurse his wounded pride which Effie knew had taken even more of a beating today.

"I'm sorry for them," She said sincerely as she looked at him. "They shouldn't speak to you in such a way."

Effie meant that. She hated how the citizens of the Capitol treated the Districts, as though they were slaves, or cut his good eye that wasn't hidden by ice over to Effie and scoffed slightly.

"Don't give a damn what they say to me." Rolling his eyes, Haymitch took another sip of his drink and winced.

It helped. It always helped, even if he was always already drunk it helped him. Helped ease any pain, physical or otherwise, helped him mend his pride and helped him forget things he didn't want to remember. That was why he drank, and why he wouldn't stop drinking.

They dropped into silence again, Haymitch occasionally shifting the ice around or changing his grip so it wouldn't melt quickly, swilling the liquor around in the glass.

"Is your scar from-" She was speaking without thinking and quickly closed her mouth, thinking better of asking him about his games. Just what had come over her lately? Maybe she had just reached her limit of being afraid and found a little boldness...or maybe she was just stupid.

...Whatever the reason, she needed to be more careful. Especially after tension couldn't be cut with anything short of an axe, and then, much to his annoyance, she swung one and brought up his games.

His grip tightened on the glass and he hastened to loosen it so it wouldn't crack or break in his hand. It could be worse, he had to tell himself, it's not a hard question. Didn't require any thinking...could be much worse.

He nodded stiffly and instinctively he moved his arm back down to his stomach for a few seconds, feeling the cool air against the now exposed eye.

"Mm."

Effie lowered her head, pressing her lips into a thin line and stretching out one foot to study the fraying tights at her toes. Bright blue polish shone through her tights, reflecting off her toes and Effie inwardly wished she could physically kick herself for bringing up his games at all. She sighed and stood, crossing the room and coming back with the bottle of alcohol, holding it out to him and refilling his glass as a token of apology without any more words.

"I meant what I said last night...I don't want to cause more trouble between us." She said quietly. "If we're going to work together, what harm would it do to be friends...to be there for each other? like we have been this week?

That did it, Haymitch let out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a growl and lifted the melting ice back up to his eye, turning his whole head to glare at her. The effect was lessened considerably from only have the use of one eye but that wasn't going to stop him now.

Effie was still going on about that? How long had it been? Near two days now and she had been good enough to let it alone for one of them. Why did she want to be his friend? He wasn't a good friend to have, he wasn't a nice person and he didn't particularly intend or want to be one.

"Geez, princess, are you quite done with that?" He snapped, "I'm not your friend!"

Effie closed her purple shadowed eyes and sighed deeply. He was going to be like that? If he didn't care about her at all, then why did he bother carrying her home in the rain the other night? Why did he bother standing up for her when other people treated her badly or insulted her?

Whether he saw it or not, they took care of one another, well, she more than him. "No, I'm not quite done, thank you very much." She snapped back. "What harm could friendship do? It just means you have one less person to fight. I don't believe for a minute that you actually like being alone."

She fluffed a pillow for something to do. "I know you hate me, but I don't know why...I've tried to be kind to you over the years...I want to be your friend. Whatever I did to make you hate me so much, I'm sorry." At first, Effie had every intention of fighting back, snapping back at him, but she honestly and truly was tired of fighting with him. She was tired of the screaming matches, the nights that ended with something being thrown across the room, usually at one or the other, and her voice came out much more softly than she anticipated.

The icy water was starting to run down his face and impatiently, Haymitch wiped it away, dropping the ice from his eye as it progressively shrunk. That was enough, now she was telling him she knew him better than he did, did she honestly think she knew what he wanted and preferred? Obviously not because he wanted to be left alone.

"A lot of harm, princess!" He glowered darkly up for a moment before getting to his feet again, a purple bruise forming brightly around his left eye.

Effie just didn't get it, how many times did he have to say it? That she was likely to die or be hurt if she tried to care for him too much? If by some miracle he started to care for her, that would make things worse.

"I don't have friends, especially not Capitol ones." He all but spat, not in any kind of mood to be civil. That was low, he knew it was, but that's what she was. It's what he saw whenever he looked at her, save for the night she'd actually taken off the wig and the night in the rain.

Effie Trinket had a soul, that was something to her credit, under the layers of makeup she at least cared for the year's Tributes, usually more than Haymitch cared to. And she cried when they almost inevitably died, he just fumed and something usually smashed.

"Stop expecting me to turn around and be your best friend. It's better for both of us if you let it go." He added, slightly softer, trying to calm himself, he didn't actually want to lose his temper again.

Effie closed her eyes, flinching at the jab about her citizenship. Yes, she was from the Capitol, she had everything she could ever want, she was safe from the Games...but Effie was not untouched by them. Year after year she called the names of innocent children and watched them cry and tremble and then meet their ends in gruesome ways year after year.

She didn't open her eyes for a long time, Just because she was from the Capitol, didn't mean she liked what the Capitol did, didn't mean she wouldn't change it if she could. She was ashamed of herself for going along with any of it...but what could she do? What choice did she have?

The truth of the matter, and Effie didn't realize it until she looked up at the blonde, scruffy drunk glaring down at her, but the truth of the matter was simply that Effie Trinket was lonely. When her family was taken by the Capitol she had been sent off to training school for ettiquette and manners, everything to turn her into the perfect prim and proper lady, the perfect escort...She never had the real priveledge for friends or family after that. Any potential "Friend" might just as soon turn around and stab you in the back, getting you in trouble so they might get ahead and eventually have better job opportunities thanks to their school resume.

Now, she barely held her position as the escort of 12, and even though it broke her heart, she could be no where else. She couldn't even afford to speak out against her thoughts, simply cry wordlessly into her pillow every year as she called another pair of children covereed in faint traces of coal dust to come and die.

The odds were never in their favor, just like they would never be in her favor. Not with the Capitol reigning supreme like a spoiled child on a throne.

Finally, swallowing a lump in her throat, Effie opened her eyes and looked away, out the window at nothing in particular, pressing her softly fisted hand to her lips.

"Better for you, maybe." She whispered sadly. She was tired of being alone, being threatened and insulted all the time. Either she didn't act Capitol enough, or she acted far too Capitol and that got her cursed at too. It was a fine line she walked on a very tight rope and at any minute she could fall...sometimes Effie found herself wondering if falling might be easier.

Why did she keep doing that? Turning it around, making him feel slightly guilty for yelling, he shouldn't be feeling guilty and yet somehow, Effie managed to make him. Haymitch hated that. A lot.

"No. Stop it, princess. It's better for you, I'm doing you a favour!"

It was true, he thought he was. He didn't care about having friends, he never needed them, he was more than content to lounge around District 12 drinking his days away and waking up in a different place every morning. He was happy that way and was by no means going to change it.

Haymitch wasn't standing for this anymore, she wasn't looking and he didn't want to take the chance that she might not be listening. Waving a hand in front of her face he glared down again, not letting his face soften, he had to get through to her. He had to.

"Stop it! You're only hurting yourself!"

Effie was digging deep for whatever smile she had in her closet for such a time as this. She remembered her classes in school for how to handle an uncomfortable situation, how to pretend you weren't upset, and how to smile no matter what you were feeling. Smiling was good, perky worked, schedules were her friends. All those things mixed with the wig and makeup served Effie well in the Capitol. She had money and contacts in the best circles...

...But that wasn't enough. She wanted someone who understood, who felt something behind their fashion and hair styles...She needed someone who felt the loss she felt every year...the pressure the Capitol bore down on her.

She couldn't understand him, 'better for you, doing you a favor'. What was that even supposed to mean? Was she that repulsive? She saw how much he suffered year after year. He wasn't fooling her with the angry act and drunken staggering. He was just as lost and hiding behind just as big a mask as she was. Why couldn't he see that too?

An unsteady hand waved in front of her face and Effie looked up to meet glaring grey eyes. She blinked again, swallowing the lump that persisted in growing in the middle of her throat.

"I thought you didn't care?" She stood gracefully, still only coming up to his chin without her heels and shrugged, looking anywhere but his face. "All right," he would never understand. "I can't help that I care for you. I have for most of the five years we've worked together. I don't know why, but I do. I'll won't bring it up again, though...I'll be your friend, you don't have to be mine." She had nothing left in her to fight him with, and she didn't want to fight anymore.

Turning, Effie headed for the kitchen to get a her habitual cup of tea before she would retreat to her room to be alone as always, leaving him to his drink. "You should put more ice on that eye."

Haymitch sighed, turning on the spot and running his hands over his face, groaning into them, his drink half full on the coffee table. Why was this so complicated? Why couldn't he just ignore Effie? He had done for five years, why was it so hard to do that now?

He heard her last words and her footsteps but didn't turn around, reaching blindly behind him and grabbing for his glass, spilling it over his fingers.

"Don't walk away from me."

Great...well done. Why did he say that? If he let her go this would all be over and he possibly wouldn't have to deal with this again. But no, he had to call back to her, his tone something between an order and a request, but not really either of them.

Finally he turned around, lifting his glass back to his lips. He didn't care about her, but Haymitch knew he could be perfectly cruel and beastly more often than not, and underneath all that, he did actually care if she was hurt because of him. He didn't need her blood on his hands too, he had far too much there already.

"I may not like you, but I do care if you get hurt because you think it's a nice thing to care for me, princess."

Effie was facing the stove, staring down unseeing at the slowly heating tea kettle. She wished she hadn't brought any of this up, hadn't expected it to hurt so much when he rejected her friendship. That's all she felt, right? Genuine concern and friendship? Nobody deserved to be alone, nobody needed to be, nobody could want to be...She didn't...She couldn't.

Then he spoke again and her shoulders stiffened, here we go. Here comes the anger and yelling. If there was one thing she knew about Haymitch Abernathy, it was that he hated emotions, hated feelings...and he wanted them no where near him.

"You think this is some sort of charity project?" She asked quietly, keeping her back to him. "You think I'm saying all these things just to be nice?"

She turned then, crossing her arms with a sad shrug. "Haymitch, if that were the case, I'd have actually picked someone else to befriend." Letting out a bitter laugh, she looked up at the ceiling and sniffed, not sure where the sudden water in her eyes was coming from. Maybe the steam had gotten to her when she stood over the kettle.

"As it happens," She smiled sadly and finally looked across at him. "You don't get to choose who you love." Love? Her eyes widened suddenly. Where had that come from? ...She stood awkwardly, frozen, not sure what to do. Caring meant love, right? Friends loved each other. There. harmless.

"It's fine, don't trouble yourself." She turned back to the tea kettle, mentally panicking over that one word. She didn't love Haymitch. She wanted to be his friend. That was all. How on earth had that word, out of all the words in the english language...how did that word slip out to him of all people?

He wasn't making excuses, he wasn't trying to make up for yelling at her, he wasn't taking anything back, he meant every word. Maybe he was being selfish, he did that a lot, in all likelihood Effie had probably had things go wrong in her life too. Not that he would be surprised if she hadn't, he expected she hadn't, growing up in the Capitol.

But this was ridiculous, he was trying to hate her. He wanted to hate her and have her hate him. He wasn't an appealing man, he was far from hygienic, barely combed his hair on the best of days and spent 90% of his time drunk or getting drunk. Why didn't Effie, manner-obsessed, pink, overly made up escort from the Capitol hate him? The rest of his District did.

He half listened, staring at the kettle just behind her while she spoke, trying to get his thoughts under control and force any amount of apprehension or guilt clean under the the rug.

Wait...what? What did she say?


	13. Chapter 13

Immediately Haymitch tensed and his grey eyes snapped back up to Effie and caught her own equally wide ones. Did she even realized she'd just effectively said she loved him? That was just too much...whether it was a slip of the tongue or not, it didn't matter to him, he took a few more steps back.

Just pretend that didn't happen, she clearly messed up, or he misheard, one or the other, bother were equally likely. Under the shock he felt more guilt...there was too much guilt for his liking. He really, really had to discourage this woman. She was going to be hurt one way or the other and he would prefer it wasn't physically. In surprisingly calm tones, as he dropped back down onto the couch, elbows on his knees, Haymitch spoke.

"I'm gonna say this one more time. You're in more danger caring for me than you are not. Don't say you don't mind that, because if you don't, you're a fool." Another incredulous chuckle, just the breath of a sound, and Effie turned the kettle off with a click of a knob on the stove. She turned and faced the couch, not daring to leave the kitchen area.

"Do you really believe I'm not in any danger anyway?" She asked, letting her arms fall heavily to her sides. "Why do you think Crane invited me to dinner? Because he fancies me?" She shook her head, feeling the wig moving about.

"I told you before, you're not the highest on the list of things my superiors disapprove of about me."

She sagged, her hand coming up to toy with the high collar of her dress, her face contorting with emotion. "Just..." she closed her eyes and breathed. "Just forget everything. Pretend I never said anything...I get it." She didn't get it. Not a bit. As far as Effie understood he was repulsed by her, every bit of her screamed capitol, every bit of her was a constant reminder and probably mockery to him of what the Capitol had put him through. Who could blame him for hating her?

Gathering up her shoes on the floor, Effie shook her head and started for her room. She needed to get away, now. It was all a big mistake and it was going to leave her lonelier than ever at this rate.

Oh no. No, no, no. She was trying to walk away from him again, try and escape before he inevitably blew up and started throwing things. No way was he letting her say something and then just pretend like nothing had happened, that she'd never said a word. It was painstakingly obvious that nothing that had transpired would just disappear, the tension was there and it was going to stay. Why not add a little more to Haymitch's annoyingly curious mind?

"No way, princess. You don't get to say something like that and then say 'forget I said anything' it doesn't work like that."

He snarled again, his hackles beginning to rise and the controlled tone in his voice beginning to vanish when he stood up, his glass now empty. What would she know about threats and disapproval? The look in Crane's eyes whenever he looked at her was obvious to everyone in the room.

"Well what the hell did he want then? Like the Capitol would have a problem with you if it wasn't about me. What'd I do this time, huh? Punch a sponsor? Oh wait, that was today."

Effie paused mid step, hugging her shoes close to her chest. Was he really going to do this? Keep this going? What happened to he didn't care? She turned, blue eyes shining with salty water that she forced to remain there and not fall. Not a drop.

"I thought you didn't care?" She asked. "He isn't used to being told no." Simple truth. "I've been telling him no for a long time. They don't like how close I get with the Tributes, they think its dangerous and shows my loyalty isn't as securely fastened to the Capitol as it should be."

As she rattled off a random assortment of reasons, Effie felt that familiar pit growing in her stomach, the fear, the dread...the images of her family's apartment littered with papers and broken lamps, furniture strewn everywhere from the struggle her parents had made when the peacekeepers had come for them. She'd been out shopping at the time. The same would happen to her one day, the Capitol would tire of her and she would blink wrong nad simply disappear.

Crane made sure to keep that threat very clear and fresh every time they met. Her eyes were watering more now, and she looked at Haymitch, the first time she had voiced any of these things out loud to anyone, including herself.

"I had a family once, you know. I wasn't always this." She motioned to all of herself, indicating the stiff, work obsessed, schedule strict painted girl before him. A hand shot up and wiped at her eyes before tears had a chance to fall, smearing her makeup just a little before pointing at the floor near his feet. "Just because I'm from the Capitol, doesn't mean I'm safe from the Capitol."

There, that was simply more evidence of how soulless the Capitol really was, they couldn't even let people befriend the Tributes. Sure Haymitch wasn't a prime example of caring, but there were reasons for that, and most of them were courtesy of the Capitol themselves anyway. He hated watching the Games almost more than he hated being in them, he despised watching the kids he had been responsible for since he was seventeen die. It really did hurt him to watch them die every year, it was just easier to rage and drink than the genuinely show his sorrow.

Haymitch had the decency to feel a little ashamed of himself this time and only met her eyes a few times. Being sure to keep them just as cold and emotionless as they usually were. Okay, so Effie did have her problems too and from the sound of it she was just as alone, despite how many years he had on her.

He didn't say anything when she finished and looked up from the floor after her words, watching her face as she focussed on the floor. She was different under all that makeup, he'd always been sure of it, but like many Victors before him, he had a hard time seeing that. To him she represented the people responsible for the way he was now, for his existence, it was their fault.

He couldn't manage to form an apology, it stung his pride to do that and so settled for clearing his throat awkwardly and waiting for her to look up before putting forth another question, considerably more civilly.

"Why me? You could have been promoted, I know you had the choice. Why me?"

Why couldn't he just let her go? She had a good idea of what he thought of her, he didn't try terribly hard to hide it. Maybe the last two days had just been her own idea of suicide, doing the most damage to herself that she could before her superiors decided to make her disappear. Show them she had at least some say in what happened to her.

She sniffed deeply, trying desperately not to cry. She couldn't cry. Not in front of him and lose any ounce of self respect she had left. Effie Trinket had dignity if she had nothing else. Now she just needed him to yell at her and get it over with, then she could go to her room and cry all she wanted.

The yelling never came, though, the question making her breath hitch and her heart stop. What was he playing at? Her bright blue eyes snapped up to meet his grey ones, surprised to find a softness there, but that inner battle still raging on.

For a long time she couldn't answer. He was right. She did have other opportunities over the years, promotions, Capitol men who wanted her as their own personal companion...but Effie could never seem to tear herself away from District 12.

Finally, she found her words, but they came out so softly she wasn't sure that even she heard them. "...Because you're still fighting, you never let them own you..."

It just came out. She'd never really thought about it before, but it was true. Haymitch never stopped fighting the Capitol. He fought them from the moment his escort picked him up and brought him here to this very morning. He never let them own him, and Effie envied him for that. She would never have that kind of ...well, some might call it stupidity, but she thought it brave.

He made her have hope that someday things would be different, even though she knew that was utterly impossible.

"You're still fighting, and I see the same feelings in you that I feel in me every year when I call those names...and every year when we take them back again...The difference is you get to express it, while I have to pretend I enjoy it." She swore inwardly as a tear streamed down her cheek, just one. One tear leaving a pink and purple swirling trail down her white face as it traveled from her painted eyes from her chin.

Haymitch chuckled hollowly and very softly to himself, leaning back to sit on the arm of the couch, stretching his legs out infront of him and crossing his arms over his chest.

Even he forgot why he was fighting most of the time, it wasn't as though he really had anything to fight for anymore. But he fought because if he didn't, it would mean putting them above him, and letting them control him. He had no respect for those Victors who just became Capitol slaves, who were forced into prositution instead of fighting back.

Did she really think they were that similar? Both he and Effie were alone, that was true, but she didn't want to be and it was best if he was. She was born and raised here and he was born and raised hungry and coal blackened in District 12, she was an escort and he was a victor. They weren't alike. He couldn't see it.

After several long moments he looked up from examining the tip of his shoe and blinked once to find her crying. Immediately he felt even more awkward, he didn't do well with crying women...say something...anything...

"It's why I fight, ain't it? You don't know how I won do you?"

...Say anything but that. Well done, Haymitch, that was stupid, bring up your own Games.

Effie dropped the hand holding her shoes so that the heels struck against her thigh and she used that as an excuse to close her eyes again, wincing as she felt there would be a small bruise there later. Her free hand wiped at her cheek, frustrated with the tears, not sure why she couldn't stop them. Normally she was so very self controlled, everything in its proper place, including tears.

She couldn't bear to look at Haymitch, too afraid of what he would say, the look in his eye. When he answered with a question about his games, Effie wanted to crawl under the table and die. Was this going to be her fault, too? She shook her head, licking her lips and proud of the way her voice didn't shake or match her tears.

"It was fight or die...you survived." She said quietly, finally forcing herself to meet his gaze.

Truth be told, Effie had been too afraid to watch Haymitch's games. Seeing him day to day, hearing his screams at night, so many factors made her avoid his games, afraid of what it would show her. Effie never watched the games unless the 12 Tributes were still in the arena, but once they...she just didn't watch unless she had to.

Haymitch twitched slightly, one hand clenching into a fist and reopening repeatedly. His heart involuntarily started racing faster, telling him to shut up and stop talking. He wanted nothing more than to close up and go have another drink. But this was too far for that now.

He'd suspected she didn't know much about him or his Games, that wouldn't be surprising, and clearly she didn'and clearly she didn't understand why he didn't want to be friends. He wanted to keep her at least safe. Whether he liked her or not, she wasn't entirely Capitol, she didn't deserve what the rest of them did.

After a long moment with his jaw set and staring at the floor, Haymitch lifted his face. He was completely serious, and just the thought of the arena made his rage start to bubble back up.

"I only won, because I "cheated", I don't see how it's cheating when the damn Gamemakers don't even know in the first place." He spat bitterly, all too many horrible memories flooding back. He had to close his eyes for a moment to keep them in check, keep from automatically thinking it was real again. It wasn't, it was long over.

"I used the boundary as a weapon, princess. I used it to rebound an axe into the last girl's head! Another few minutes I'd have died..." One arm dropped back down over his abdomen instinctively, his anger progressively rising again.

"Capitol doesn't like it very much when you make them look as stupid as they are and I lost everything because of that damn stunt! That's why I don't want you to be my friend, that's why you can't!"

Effie slowly inched back into the living room, giving him space even as she rejoined him near the couch. She had never seen him so calm, so in control of himself, or having such a long conversation before. Sinking into a seat, Effie listened, her heart going out to him as she listened to just how badly his games went, her blood went cold and she shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

It wasn't fair, but then nothing the Capitol ever did was fair. They were out for themselves, and only themselves. She clasped her fingers together in front of herself, resting them on her lap.

"It's been so long...They can't still..." She dropped her eyes again, blinking back tears, this time tears for him. "I'm sorry." this apology seemed more like she was apologizing on behalf of the capitol. She was. She was the closest thing he would have to one, and he'd said it a hundred times: She was the face of the Capitol, the embodiment of everything they were.

"I'm sorry for what they did to you..." Struggling, Effie lifted her heavy blue eyes from her knees and sought his grey ones again. "...But is it really that you don't want me to be your friend, or that we already are and you're just worried?" Her voice was small, tentative, almost fearful, but she had to ask. The question was nagging at her.

When he'd called her back, asked her not to walk away, a glimmer of hope had risen up inside her and the longer he allowed the conversation to go on, the more hope she had.


	14. Chapter 14

She still wasn't getting it. It was hard enough to talk about it, he'd never spoken about it to anyone that didn't already know. The worst nightmares were the ones he relived coming home to find his mother dead in the kitchen, or his little brother upstairs, begging his girlfriend not to die and actually feeling her blood run cold. He couldn't retell that. But she had to know what the risk was, he still couldn't be her friend, however uncannily good she seemed to be at trying to persuade him otherwise.

A little more viciously than he would have liked he turned around to properly face her, standing up straight and looking her in the eye. If she was his friend, they'd try to hurt him and both of them more by going after her first.

"I don't have anyone I care about, princess, because they're all dead." He growled through his teeth. "Capitol killed them because of my stunt with the damn boundary. I don't want you caring for me, and you really, really shouldn't want to either."

The way he turned, the glare he cast her way, the bite in his words, they all stung. Effie stood to face him, stepping closer so they were inches apart, did he think those deaths were his fault? They weren't. She wouldn't be his fault, either.

"Well, it's too late, isn't it?" She shot back at him, her arm straightening at her side, palm open as if asking him to look around. "I already care, and in case you were wondering, people who don't care don't throw themselves in front of a moving fist for nothing." She moved to walk passed him, thought better of it and looked up at him again.

"Do you know why I dress like this? Why I work so hard at being the perfect example of a Capitol woman?"

She stiffened, he shared with her, she wasn't giving up yet. "It's because I've lost people, too. My father was an escort before me, and when I was sixteen he went to dinner with some 'friends'" she made air quotes around the word. "He had one too many drinks and let it slip that he believed we were passed the time of the games now, how it was a shame that so many children had to die for entertainment..." She felt her eyes misting again and Effie took in a quick shuddering breath, desperate not to let more tears fall.

"I came home from the next day after shopping and our apartment was wrecked from a struggle, a smudge of..." she swallowed again, she had never spoken of that day, rarely let herself think about it, but if anyone would understand, it would be him.

"I was reported when I came home." she continued, letting the last sentence hang in the air unfinished. "The peacekeepers came with my father's superior and they took me to a training center for "Capitol Etiquette"

Her painted face turned away with a scoff, her blue eyes cutting away from his and off to the side. "I clawed my way through their lies and deceit, their tricks...and I was assigned to 12, but not before I was reminded just what happened to my family...and no matter how good I was at my job, I would never be irreplaceable."

Effie's practiced smile returned, that perfect Capitol grin that said everything was fine. "So, yes, Haymitch. Whether you believe it or not, I do understand the danger in being your friend...very well...but I'm tired of being afraid, and I'm tired of everything always staying the same." she met his eyes again. "So, you'll excuse me if, for once in my life I choose something for myself and decide to be your friend."

Haymitch cut his eyes away as soon as she started talking again. She made it perfectly clear that she did care and that wasn't going to change...Haymitch felt a small bubble of dread beginning to swell in his gut. He didn't like this at all, he didn't like the thought of being responsible for another death.

He bit his lip inwardly, his heart beating a little too fast for his liking and he half fought to slow it down. Anyone would think he actually did care about Effie which he didn't. He didn't. _He didn't!_ So why was he fighting to keep her out of more danger than she was apparently already in? She was Capitol, he should _want _her to be in danger, want her to get back a little of what her precious government gave out.

Finally he flicked his eyes back up as she sought his and met them, nervous apprehension making a reappearance there. She understood, he knew that, she obviously knew she would be in danger, and more than he had first thought if she was telling him the truth, which Haymitch supposed she must be.

"Princess, don't." He growled, almost begging, taking a few steps away, they were too close for his liking.

It was a pointless attempt, he wasn't going to persuade her otherwise, but...he tried so hard to keep her away from him and this was exactly the opposite outcome. She'd even said she loved him, which may or may not be true, but was disastrous if she did. He wasn't exactly the most attractive catch in any way. Haymitch frowned slightly, analyzing her smudged makeup, around the eyes and the cheeks, a silver tear trail down her left.

Effie's heart sank as he practically fled back, apparently desperate to be away from her. Her eyes remained locked with his that were now completely unreadable to her. What was she hoping to accomplish with all this? She was lonely, sure, but did she really expect him, Haymitch Abernathy, the man who hated her with a passion to want anything to do with her?

He growled, and Effie felt her heart sink again just an inch. This was a disaster, and he probably just hated her all the more for every minute of it. She felt the loneliness growing, adding to the horrid dread of just what consequences she might face for today's escapades. Another long, silent moment passed with Haymitch studying her face far too intently. She couldn't do this anymore, so clearing her throat, Effie shook her head and returned that sparkling Capitol smile to her face, clutching her shoes defensively before herself.

"Ah, all right. You're free, nothing has to change. It's something at least that you know you have someone on your side. Excuse me, I...I, uh..." The smile stayed there, as realistic as always, though it didn't quite reach her eyes as she tried to start passed him, turning to squeeze between Haymitch and the couch to escape to her room.

What was he doing? He was being ridiculous, running from his problems and expecting them never to arise again, he could bury them nicely with alcohol but he hadn't a real idea just how long it would last and stay hidden. Effie held half of that power.

Haymitch groaned inwardly, dragging his hand back over his face and through his hair, trying to clear his head. He wasn't used to this, feeling so much after so long of suppressing everything, it almost physically hurt him. He could feel his chest throbbing.

He felt Effie trying to sidle past him and stepped back to give her more room, _no...wait..._

"Sit down." He reached out, grabbing her hand in the same place he had that morning only considerably more gently. He could feel her her muscles tense, feel the bruises there from his defensive attack. "Sit..."

She didn't move, and gently, but firmly, Haymitch pulled her back to sit her on the arm of the couch. He would take his control back, his eyes flicking over to the damp cloth of the table.

"Don't move, it'll make it more difficult." With one hand keeing her from getting up, he reached over and pulled the cloth towards him, thoughtfully examining her face again.

Effie wanted so much to run away, to hide back in her room and have a good cry. She was lost now, she had no idea what she had been trying to do, what she hoped to accomplish. Was he meant to take it well? To snatch her up into a hug? That would never happen, even if he didn't hate her.

_Uh..._there were the tears forming again, that painful knot in her throat.

Effie gasped as his fingers caught hold of her hand, the memory of this morning flashing through her mind, haymitch leering over her, his arm pressed hard over her chest, the knife roughly against her throat just under her chin. She wore gloves today, black lace gloves to hide the bruises his grip had left, but this time his grip was considerably softer, and something in his voice made her look back at him, her own eyes sparkling with water.

She didn't quite catch what he said, didn't understand it. Was he asking her to stay? She couldn't imagine him wanting her anywhere near him now. Her nerves were gone, through for the day and the trembling was starting up again, though she wasn't quite sure if it was from anxiety of the moment, or just pure tiredness as the adrenaline wore off from the day.

Effie looked up at him, not moving to leave or do as she was told and Haymitch gently made her sit on the arm of the couch, keeping hold on her hand as he told her not to move and reached around her for something on the table. Her breath quickened, what was he going for? His knife? Was he going to prove how dangerous he thought himself now?

"What is it?" She asked worriedly as he straightened and studied her face. Effie shifted uncomfortably, feeling his eyes pinning her in place, feeling herself growing smaller, the urge to just tear away and run building.

He turned the cloth over in his hand. It was still quite wet, good... it would serve the purpose quite well. Saying nothing he shifted directly in front of her and released his hold on her hand, furrowing his brow slightly. Her makeup was running quite a lot, she'd obviously been crying more when he hadn't been looking.

Effie looked scared, like he was about to cut her throat or something. Which he wasn't going to do or would be able to until that cloth had razor edges.

"Five years..." Haymitch started after a while, taking another step closer, not far from her face. "Five years and I've never seen your face."

Effie's breathing quickened, her mouth dropping open as he stepped closer, her muscles tensing as he lifted the wet cloth to her face, staring at every inch of make up she wore. No, he wouldn't...Without waiting for a word of protest he lifted the cloth and swiped it down the side of her cheek gently. It was almost alarming how much powder came off in just one wipe. He felt Effie squirm and frowned as he continued, wiping over places twice and being sure to remove any trace of makeup.

"Don't squirm."

As the cold cloth touched her face for the first swipe, Effie gasped, contemplating her chances of just shoving him away and running. No one had seen her natural face since she was sixteen years old. She had taken to this cover affect after being enrolled in the boarding school she spent her later teen years in.

He continued wiping, her eyes locked on his in wide, fearful blue circles as she gaped. Her pulse pounded in her ears, beat against her throat and Effie was almost sure he would be able to see it if not for her high collar dressed.

"...Why..." She whimpered as a cold drip of water traveled down the side of her face as he swiped the rag across her forehead. Her brows furrowed, eyes closing sadly. "...Stop." Effie drew her head back a fraction, half heartedly fighting for personal space. This was nothing like she anticipated. Why was he doing this?

"...You've never cared about my face before except to tell me to get it out of your sight..." She was a mortified tangle of emotions even _she_ wanted nothing to do with now.

"It has been out of my sight." He replied quickly, his face maintaining its concentrated frown. Her skin was pale but in comparison to her makeup she was almost tanned. He had to examine the difference between his hand and her face to remember that she wasn't.

"Close your eyes."

She didn't, Haymitch employing a stern glare, dragged the cloth over her nose a few times and turned it over to the clean, unsmudged side.

He waited until she finally did close her eyes and dragged the cloth very gently over her eyelids, ridding them of the pink shade. Then once over her lips, but apparently lipstick didn't come off that easily. She looked better and, he'd only admit this privately, actually rather pretty. As he lowered the cloth, satisfied with the outcome. A long minute of silence passed, the tension in Effie's arms visible, Haymitch almost thought she was shaking.

"It's better...actually human."

Effie shivered under the cloth, wet from melted ice. Maybe he would think that's why she was trembling, too. This was such an odd feeling, such an unbelievable scenario. Why was this happening? How was this happening? When he asked her to close her eyes, Effie actually started in surprise, practically shrinking beneath his glare and finally she closed her eyes for him.

The gentility in his touch surprised her as he softly brushed the cloth over her eyes. Effie tried to imagine his face, imagine what he was thinking. What must she look like to him? Could he be getting the stuff off properly? Her skin would be stained white without soap and cleanser...He brought the cloth to her lips and Effie's chin lifted instinctively. He must have realized lipstick was a bit stronger holding than the rest, because he had to wip the cloth over a few extra times, still being careful as if afraid of breaking her.

She didn't open her eyes, grateful for the chance to hide from his piercing eyes. She didn't open them until he spoke, feeling slightly dazed, and very naked. He was the first person to see her without her make up in years, including stylists. Effie learned to paint her own makeup on very quickly and never let anyone see her if she could help it, not really even having a reason, just one odd way of having control over her life.

Fighting with her hands to keep them from coming up to cover her face, she didn't know what to do, she remembered she was wearing her wig, and how ridiculous she looked with only her wig and no makeup to balance it out and her hands shot up to her face then, covering it and half turning away as if to leave.

Haymitch shook his head slightly, waiting for her to open her eyes, which she did very slowly. It wasn't perfect, he didn't bother trying to get every speck, just most of it, and there was still a smear of powder above her eyebrow, didn't matter.

He didn't risk taking her wig off, he hadn't a clue how it worked and would probably pull and tug at her hair a good deal if he tried. But at least he knew what was under it. She tried to pull away and he stepped to block her. No, she wasn't leaving now. He'd just seen her face for the first time, she was staying right there.

Effie actually whimpered, when he blocked her way, keeping her hands over her eyes, her head slightly turned away from him, her body shifted toward her room as if that would somehow get her magically transported away. But there was no such luck of that, and as he tugged her wrist away from her face, Effie sagged and surrendered, realizing there was no escaping.

"Move your hands."

Effie didn't, she was closing in to hide now. Makeup and fashion were to Effie what liquor was to Haymitch, it was what they hid behind. With a frustrated sigh he tugged on her wrist gently, firmly pulling her hands away and examining her face again. She looked up at him, her lower lip quivering ever so slightly as he took in her features. What must she look like to him? With a heavy sigh, Effie dropped her eyes and reached up slowly to unpin her wig and let it drop on the couch after a few practiced movements, shaking her blond locks free to hang around her shoulders.

"Don't actually look half bad without that cake of stuff on, princess."

Her eyes were glued to the floor, almost as if she were ashamed to meet his eyes with nothing left to hide in, her confidence gone.

"...No...nobody has..." She licked her lips, her voice so soft barely audible as she shifted uncomfortably beneath his gaze. "Nobody has seen me like this since I was sixteen..." she finally managed, tucking a blond wave behind one ear.

Somehow that didn't really surprise Haymitch to hear. What would that be, nine, ten years ago? He didn't really know how old she was, she never seemed to look any older with that makeup on. He meant what he said, she wasn't half bad looking. The Effie standing in front of him now was completely different to the confident, chirpy, made up Effie he'd not bothered to get to know. He had a feeling this was more like Effie Trinket the person as opposed to the escort.

"Capitol spoils things, princess..."


	15. Chapter 15

Haymitch kicked himself, he hadn't meant to say that aloud, ah well, he could play it off. Turned out this hadn't helped the barrage of feelings whirling around in his gut, all fighting one another for control...he wanted a drink.

"I actually like this better." He screwed up his nose in a scowl as he said those words. Stop it, Haymitch, right now. He was giving her more reason to think he cared. Which he did not. Did he?

Effie allowed herself a watery smile up at the ceiling, "Oh, good. At least I have that going for me,"

She wiped frantically at tears that were threatening to fall fast. That could be a small comfort, she worked for a sadistic government of dictators that killed children, had no friends, and was hated by the only person she really cared about, but at least she was pretty under the inches of makeup she was forced to wear every day. Whatever insanity had thrust Effie into wanting Haymitch to be her friend was gone, leaving behind nothing but a frightened, smudgy girl who was feeling tiny and exposed. She was sorry she started anything now,

"Too bad you hate me, hm?" She looked up at him with a hopeless chuckle, but only managed to raise her eyes as high as his chin.

Haymitch hesitated for a moment, reaching up to run a hand through his hair and pulling back at the last second, fixing his eyes on a point somewhere above her head. Glancing quickly at her eyes and away again, he took back half a step to give her a little more space. They both needed it. He wasn't even sure why he'd acted on the urge to see her face. She could do so much better, in fact she couldn't really do much worse at all. Was she really just interested in being his friend because they were both alone? He couldn't really imagine any other reason, despite what Effie had said.

But he didn't hate her. He wanted to, but he didn't. He hated the Capitol, and he hated that aspect of Effie, but not Effie the _person._ The thought brought with it the realization that he tolerated her a good deal more. Finally allowing his eyes to rest on her face, Haymitch sighed. He had worked her up into a right state by now, she could barely keep from crying and the twinge of guilt that tugged at his heart both annoyed and made him want to comfort her. What was _wrong_ with him?

"I don't..." He paused, growling as he rubbed a hand over his face again. "I hate that." His hand gestured to the wig on the couch, the make up covered cloth on the table "...not really you, I guess."

Effie's lips pressed together while she blinked furiously, trying to regain control of her emotions, but then her head snapped up and she couldn't help the way her mouth fell open in shock. He didn't? He gestured to her wig and her face fell again. He hated the Capitol side of her, meaning there was no hope.

Choking down the knot in her throat, Effie let a hand wrest at the nape of her neck, "I'm sorry. I don't even know what I was doing. This week...it's been..." she sighed and sank down onto the couch in defeat. "I don't know. It was just too much and I suppose it spilled over. We can pretend this never happened..."

Effie was panicking inside. This week had been a disaster, first he carried her home in the rain, then she actually told him she cared for him and it all snowballed from there. Was she just acting on the fear because of the threats Seneca had made? She took in a breath and held it, looking up at him, no. She cared, she really did, and she had for quite a while. The gentleness he had shown with her over the last hour was turning everything she knew upside down, but ultimately confirming everything she believed about him.

Haymitch bit his lip, focussing his eyes on the oh so appealing bar. It would make things so much easier if he had just a touch more alcohol in his system. Nothing would be easier to define, but it would be simpler to deal with. There were too many emotions swirling around in a crazy pool in his stomach, and none of them would stay still long enough for Haymitch to be able to tell just what he was feeling at all. Did he care about her? Did he despise her? Was he guilty, angry, upset? It was too much. ...And then there was that little smidgen of something he faintly recognized that was begging to be heard. That tiny voice he hadn't heard for so long he'd forgotten what to call it.

With a frustrated breath, the victor looked down at her, meeting her gaze before reaching out to nudge her elbow and gently pull her back up. His brain didn't even have time to send a warning before Haymitch did what was possibly the stupidest thing he could have done in the situation. For no reason he could explain whatsoever, he put a hand behind her hair to the back of her neck, and pressed his lips to hers before either of them knew what he was doing.

The world seemed to slow, everything happening in what should have been one fluid motion seemed to be going in slow motion...everything except Effie's mind. No, that was racing at a thousand miles an hour just like always. Something was happening and it made Effie's blood quicken. Why wasn't he yelling at her? Why wasn't he angry or drinking? Not once in this entire conversation had he gone for the alcohol.

He touched her elbow and she looked down at his hand and then back up at him as he carefully tugged her back up to her feet. They were close, so close she could see his chest rising and falling with each breath he took. He breathed as if running a race or preparing himself for something because he expected it to hurt, determined breaths, deliberate breaths.

Effie watched his face, eyes wide in confusion, lips parted in alarm. Why was he pulling her in? Why was his hand on the back of her neck-Suddenly, Haymitch gave one last gentle tug and Effie was standing on her toes, his lips pressed firmly to hers, and she stiffened with a squeak...

His other hand pressed into her back and the hand on the back of her neck kept her in place while his lips worked searchingly against hers. Her thoughts stopped, her eyes slowly closed and the hands that had gone flat against his chest to push him away slowly gripped the fabric of his shirt as she melted against him. Slowly, her lips responded to his and Effie leaned against his chest as her muscles turned to mush.

For a few precious seconds her loneliness was forgotten, her fears erased and they were all that existed. Something was stirring in her, for the first time Effie was beginning to realize just why all his insults and all his growling and tempers stung so badly when turned on her, why she felt her heart freeze and stop in her chest each time he came back bruised from a night out, or she was woken by his screams from down the hall.

...Just when had she had time to fall in love with Haymitch Abernathy?

This was wrong...what was he doing? He couldn't be doing this, this was Effie...Alarm bells were going off in his head, frantically ringing, telling Haymitch to stop it now, this wasn't a good idea. So why wasn't he stopping? Why was his other hand snaking around to push her closer?

He felt his stubble scratch against her cheek, a stark contrast between them, and smirked very slightly and a little smugly when he felt her start to melt. Well, that was very unexpected...however much she liked him he definitely didn't think she would take too kindly to being kissed out of nowhere.

What was she thinking? What were they talking about? Everything melted and mixed together and Effie couldn't tell where one thought ended and another began. Was this what kissing felt like? She had never been kissed before. Her life had been one of preparation and propriety, schedules and political games.

There had been no time for relationships, and no men worth the effort in pursuing a relationship. The men in the Capitol were often just as feminine as she was, sometimes worse. If they weren't effeminate, they were mean and selfish, or just spoiled, sometimes all of the above...

Oh, but this was nice. Her eyes remained softly closed as she pressed warmly against his chest, her arms snaking up to drape over his shoulders as he pulled her close.

_No, stop it..._he couldn't do this. _Couldn't do what?_ _This didn't mean anything..._Haymitch couldn't let it mean anything. This was just a spur of the moment attempt to define whatever it was raging around and demanding to be heard...and it wasn't helping that much.

He wasn't going to deny that it was definitely enjoyable. He hadn't had a kiss that felt like that for a long time...or one that felt like anything at all really. He just didn't know why he felt this way. He didn't love her, Haymitch didn't love anyone, he'd learned his lesson. As the need for air started to grow rapidly, the victor frowned very slightly, his heart racing at full speed. His fears only grew stronger when he started to realize he was allowing himself to care, he was making himself too vulnerable, and by extension her too. He pulled back, his stubble raking over her skin again as he dropped his hands from her back and out of her hair.

"I can't..." Whether she cared about the danger or not, whether he had little to do with it or not, Haymitch couldn't let her be in any danger at all because of him.

His lips still tingling slightly he groaned and ran his hands through his hair again, keeping his face turned up at the ceiling in an effort to hide all the uncertainty he was confident was showing in his eyes. "God...I can't do this, I'm sorry, I can't."

The kiss went on, and Effie was lost in it, a strange warmth seeping out from her heart and spreading through her entire body. That dull, empty ache seemed to be filling oh so slowly, just a precious few more seconds and it might be gone forever...

...But then, as suddenly as it began, the kiss ended and Haymitch practically tore himself away from her. Effie was left breathless and blinking, momentarily stunned, disoriented as she looked around to see just where he'd gone.

Can't? What was the point of that kiss, then? Was she just that naive, did she think there was more to that kiss than just a physical act simply because it was her first? The ache was back, worse than before as whatever part of her had filled cracked and broke, letting all the warmth seep out of her.

Her eyes filled again, and this time Effie made no effort to stop the tears from falling as she looked up at him.

"I wish you hadn't..." With a muffled choke, Effie whirled around, stumbling as she gathered up her shoes and wig.

With one last look back at Haymitch, Effie finally fled the room and didn't stop until her bedroom door had closed her safely away.

Yeah...that was what he expected, crying and running. Certainly it would be out of the question to think Effie might accept it and just nod and smile. He couldn't be doing this, he couldn't let himself start to have feelings for her, it would ruin all his hard work of suppressing all his emotions save for anger, it would completely ruin his defenses.

He waited until the door closed before letting out another groan and burying his face in his hands. What the hell had he just done? She was in an even worse state now, one that he certainly wasn't going to be the one to repair. With a small growl he spun and kicked the couch, ignoring the dull pain that shot up and down his leg.

"Stupid!"

Drink...he needed a drink. In ln long strides, Haymitch quickly crossed to the bar digging out a bottle of bourbon, foregoing a glass and leaning on the window. He was completely annoyed with himself. That was stupid, he should have forgotten those feelings instead of intending to define them. But it was even worse now...Haymitch had a fair idea of just what they were...and he didn't like that. He had to drown them.

Haymitch just stood staring out the window and wishing a brutal death upon anyone he saw walking by, for at least an hour and downing two and a half bottles, pretending he didn't hear any of Effie's sniffing from her room. Finally he spun, seizing another bottle and staggered back to his own room, having no intention to sleep and every intention to be as drunk as possible.

In her room, Effie leaned against the door, fighting for breath as sobs racked her body. It felt like her ribs were constricting, shrinking in around her heart and crushing her slowly. The tears came so fast and heavy that Effie could barely see to cross the room, her wig and shoes clutched tightly to her chest, a heel digging into her ribs drawing her out of her sobbing long enough to carelessly toss the offending articles, normally cherished, to the floor with an angry growl.

What was that? What was wrong with her? Caring for him, of all people? Did she expect him to be happy about it? No, of course not…but that? Haymitch kissing her was the last thing Effie ever expected to happen. He hated her, he clearly hated her, and for all the cruel things he had said, the very near run ins with flying objects he threw thanks to the rages she sent him into, this was by far the cruelest thing he had ever done.

With a heavy sniff, Effie stumbled over to her vanity mirror and took in her reflection, her mouth dropping open and a heavy groan muffled deep in her throat. She was hideous, not Capitol, not District, she was nothing but a smudged, puffy mess of a girl who couldn't do anything right. Her eyes bloodshot and sticky with left over mascara, patches of white and pink smudges were left over various parts of her face, her lips puffy and swollen from the kiss. She slowly reached up with slender fingers, manicured nails tracing the paths Haymitch had swiped with the cloth, shuddering breaths shaking her frame until her fingers came to rest on her puffy lips.

He had been so gentle, so careful…had it all been a trick? The tears returned with a vengeance and she hid her face in folded arms, leaning over her table, pushing bottles of makeup and perfumes back for more space. Effie had never felt like more of a fool in her life. She had kissed him back, been utterly lost in him, and for a brief moment she believed herself to have found some sort of relief from her loneliness, and now that was gone forever.

Her chest heaved as she desperately tried to drag air into her lungs between sobs and stood. The dress was suddenly too tight, strangling, and she frantically fought with the zipper until she managed to peel it down over her arms and hips, kicking it away as though it burned her before flinging herself down onto her bed, not even bothering with pajamas and cried herself to sleep.

Haymitch didn't sleep, barely even sat down, just leaned against his window that spanned the length of the wall and glared out at the busy flashing lights. Lifting a bottle of bourban frequently to his lips and grunting in annoyance when one ran out. There wasn't enough liquor in the world.

He still couldn't really define just why he'd kissed her, it was a stupid thing to do, and in retrospect, he'd most likely hurt Effie more than he would have done ignoring her for the rest of his stay here. Which was worse? Kissing her when he knew full well it wasn't going to go anywhere, or having to stop the kiss for the same reason.

No. Stop it, Haymitch. He lifted another bottle and drained the few gulps left, throwing it across the room to hit the wall with a thud, not quite hard enough to shatter the bottle. He stared dully at the street for a few more minutes, his grey eyes not focussing on anything. He wasn't sleeping tonight, he was more afraid than usual of falling back into nightmares, he hadn't the slightest idea if something would change, a face, a voice, but if it did...

Even hours later, when his head was throbbing and spinning and his body wanted only to pass out, he kept his eyes open, occasionally dropping onto the floor in the en-suite to empty his stomach, groaning out of the nausea. He wasn't as drunk as he would like to be, he still knew his name, Haymitch, he was still very aware of where he was and he still remembered everything. His body was wasted, unfortunately his mind wasn't.

Unless, on the other hand...he was more drunk than he thought, and that was why he felt the glint of recognition when he dwelled too long on his thoughts. He hadn't felt anything for such a long time, he could fall drunk and numb into one bed and wake up in another without any memory of what had happened, nothing meant anything to him. But that kiss was different. Was he attracted to Effie Trinket? Well, there wasn't too much denying that, he could live with that.

Did he actually have feelings for her? He might. Yeah...he was definitely drunk.


	16. Chapter 16

The next day Effie woke with the sun beaming in on her after her alarm had gone off three times. She groaned, immediately reclosing her eyes as her head throbbed. Rolling over, Effie hugged her pillow, nuzzling in and hiding from the light. Was she hungover? What happ-Oh.

_Oh... _She groaned again and hid her face fully as everything came flooding back to her. The alarm went off again, the sound of high pitched chirping birds ringing through her throbbing head, and Effie sat up rubbing her face, willing herself not to think about last night.

Today was fairly calm, just simple errands to run, mostly free to do with as she liked. First on the schedule? A long, hot shower. When she finally emmerged from her room, Effie was decked out in Capitol fashion and makeup to the max. She felt the need to hide more than ever, almost to the point it was overwhelming even for her. As she pocked down the hall to the kitchen for her morning coffee, Effie found herself actually praying Haymitch wouldn't be awake before she left for the day's errands.

Just what had she been thinking? She was lucky it hadn't been worse, as drunk as he was and the way she prodded him... She should be grateful it was only a ki...she closed to breathe through a sharp pain that shot through her heart. Her eyes sought out a coffee mug on the counter and she took it up, filling it with the coffee that had been set to brew automatically at seven.

* * *

Haymitch remained in his room as long as he possible could. Unshaven, unwashed and red eyes framed with dark circles accentuating big black bruise engulfing the eye that took the punch in the fight, he had no intention of leaving any time soon. He'd managed to surrender to half an hour's sleep in the middle of the day, it was the easiest time he found sleeping. There were less nightmares during the day. He hadn't eaten and only spent the day drinking and throwing his knife as best he could at the back of the door, only half his shots actually hitting it.

He wasn't hammered, and actually relatively sober when he slipped out of his door, leaving it to swing closed, thinking he'd better at least make sure people knew he was still alive. The air was a good deal fresher outside of his room, the stench of liquor wasn't nearly as evident save from himself.

Haymitch made it out into the living area, frowning slightly at the lack of activity, there were only a few avoxes around, no tapping of Effie's heels or anything. She couldn't still be in her room could she? She wasn't that kind of woman. Haymitch did feel guilty about the previous day, almost enough to make him want to apologise to the escort for very obviously leading her on.

With another quick glance around, Haymitch frowned, grunting and perching on the back of the couch and stared at the penthouse door. Effie had to be out, errands or meetings probably, obviously not important enough for her to come and get him. Heaving a sigh, and running his hands over his face, Haymitch resigned himself to a day alone, ignoring the avoxes that came in to clean as they did every day. She had to come home eventually.

Hours later, the sun had nearly set and Haymitch growled slightly to himself, glaring at the door. She was taking an awfully long time, presuming she'd been gone for a while. Why was he even waiting for her? He didn't have anything to say, nothing he intended to anyway, but as he'd learned, he couldn't at all rely on his plans.

He shouldn't want to see Effie at all, and she shouldn't want to see him at all. She probably didn't, and she'd probably request a transfer or a promotion to a high district. There was no way she'd want to be his friend now, that would be easier and better for both of them.

* * *

For such an "easy day", Effie was exhausted. She had left the penthouse before ten that morning and completed her errands before noon. The rest of the day was spent wandering the city and getting as many things accomplished as she could manage on her schedule. By the time the sun began to set, Effie had done enough to clear her schedule for two days. She just had to keep away from that penthouse, away from him...she was mortified, hurt, and all she could think of was how impossible it would be to face him after last night.

Haymitch hated her before, he was disgusted by her and she couldn't blame him with the job she did. But after this week? Suddenly admitting she cared for him, then everything that happened last night? What must he think of her now?

When she finally stepped off the elevator and up to the door of the penthouse, Effie was worn out and her feet ached, one of her toes had gone numb, yet she paused all the same and rested her forehead against the door. Maybe he had gone out, maybe he was in bed...

Effie softly tapped her forehead against the door and sighed. She couldn't stay out here forever...so, keying in the lock numbers, Effie stepped inside and headed straight for the tea kettle, not bothering to look around for her housemate.

Her housemate who just so happened to be standing in the living room. Just as the drunk turned to go back to his room, he heard the door click, and he turned back just in time to see Effie coming in, looking more exhausted than ever and almost unrecognizable in all her usual makeup and then some. She didn't seem to notice him, making her way determinedly to the kettle, her tea was his liquor. What was she going to do for two days without work? Certainly not work more, that was for sure. She'd only free up more days of nothing to do if she did that. The purple clad escort stood facing the kettle, a hand rubbing at her stiff neck while the other met each foot in turn as she lifted them to remove her seven inch high heels.

From the counter, her hand held computer pinged, signalling she had a message and Effie reached over and pressed the button to play without thinking. Instantly, a hologram appeared with the face of one of her "friends" of the Capitol and Effie sagged a little further as the trilling voice began to chatter.

_"Effie Trinket! How dare you go out to dinner with Seneca Crane and not tell me all about it?"_ Effie winced, she could already see where this was going. _"Well, anyway, you're forgiven because I understand completely. Poor dear. The dullest date he's ever had? Well, that's what he told me at lunch today. He said all you talk about is fashion and makeup, darling! Men don't want to hear about all that! And why do you insist on wearing all those garish colors? I keep telling you blues and yellows and greens are all the rage now, but with your skin tone... Well, anyway. Don't you worry, dear! I'm here to save the day. We'll go out and have makeovers togethera nd I'll see you have all the improve-"_ Effie took a shuddering breath and clicked the computer off with a tired chuckle.

Repulsive to the Capitol, repulsive to the districts, repulsive to Haymitch...Forever alone. The kettle was beginning to steam, not quite whistling, though, giving her a few moments more to herself. Maybe alone was better, maybe Haymitch was right.

From the hall, Haymitch could hear the little voice mail and found the woman to be highly annoying and unreasonable. His seam grey eyes took in the escort's form as she busied herself. She was tense and tired, and the sad little chuckle he heard come from her direction actually made the guilt return for how he'd treated her the last few days. But only a little. Sighing, the mentor pinched his nose tightly between two fingers and growled low in his chest. He couldn't very well go to bed now, with his luck this entire mess would make his sleeping ten times worse.

Crossing his arms over his chest he took a few steps toward Effie, quietly clearing his throat and cursing himself under his breath.

He grunted something, anything to make himself gain some momentum. He'd never been good at talking, so anything to start off would be better than nothing.

"...sorry 'bout that."

He apologised? He never apologised, this was a perfect example of why he never trusted whole , suddenly the man of the hour appeared seemingly out of nowhere, alerting her to his presence by clearing his throat. Effie yelped and whirled, nearly putting her hand on the hot stove and catching herself before making the mistake.

"You scared me half to death!" She let out a breath, clutching at her collar. "It's fine." she muttered, recovering and turning to turn off the kettle as it chose that moment to sing. "Would you like a cup?"

He rarely did, usually he just added a little tea to his bourbon if he wanted. For good measure, Effie reached into the cupboard and took out a tea cup and a crystal glass to give him options, and then returned to making her own cup as she added cream and sugar.

Haymitch screwed up his nose slightly in a frown. It wasn't at all what he'd expected of her. He'd just expected Effie to walk off back to her room and ignore him. That's what she should do, at which point Haymitch would have given up and resigned himself to the fact he'd soon have to put up with a new escort, someone else to be cruel to and glare at.

But no, of all things she offered him drinks. There was something not right about this. Was she trying to make amends and apologise to him? Hell, it might have been her fault but not in a direct way that meritted apologising. Not that he liked apologising.

"No."

He didn't want anything, he had a bottle perched very precariously on the back of the couch behind him and he certainly didn't want her getting his drink for him. He just felt odd about it, it wasn't right that she should be offering him anything. He should be slapped, he was glad he wasn't, but he should be. It's where it had gotten him in drunken stupors in the past. Not that any woman had told him they loved him. He took a frustrated breath and delved into what promised to be the most awkward conversation of his life, which was saying something considering the last few days.

"Didn't actually wanna hurt you, so don't think I do."

Her lips froze inches from her teacup and Effie closed her eyes while she listened to him speak. Was he apologizing? Haymitch Abernathy? In that brief, awkward sentence, Effie was given the chance to recall every terribly thing he had ever said to her, all the names he'd called her, the fights they'd had...and now she had poured her heart out, begged to be his friend and lost her first kiss to him. A kiss equalled an apology. Slowly, Effie's eyes opened from beneath heavy lashes and she met his gaze with a sad sort of smile.

"Don't trouble yourself. I'm fine." She finally sipped her tea and took a cleansing breath as the warmth of the liquid seaped into her. It seemed as if she were always freezing no matter what.

"Like hell you're fine..." He muttered, fixing his eyes out the window. He wasn't stupid, he wasn't blind, he wasn't so thick as to not be able to tell when she was upset or not. This was a bad idea, what was he even doing? He'd come out to sort of apologise because he thought there might be some small inkling of feelings for her. It was stupid, had he not just started this he would be over it in a day.

The last few days were like one blow after another, insults, mistreatment, rejection...Effie could handle it all, but "it all" had been far more relentless than usual. Now she had two whole days of freedom to wallow in her wounded feelings. Two days...she blinked, she could go away, get out of the city and relax...maybe go to a spa...

She sipped her tea again, not quite managing to meet his eyes. "It was my fault. I let my emotions get away from me. I don't suppose friends really need to tell each other they're friends, they just show it. Right?"

Haymitch didn't even know what friends did really. He didn't tell anyone anything, no matter who they were. Even when he was young, they were basically restricted to his family, his girlfriend, and maybe one other. Now, at forty, it was restricted to Chaff from District 11. And that was it.

He shrugged "Dunno. I have one friend, and he's a drunk too. That's not the point, princess."

Effie's bright blue eyes dimmed over the ridge of her teacup and she moved around to lean against the counter, standing a little closer to him. She wasn't fine, he was right, and his admission to having only one friend touched her, though she wasn't sure why. Effie was tired, physically, mentally, and especially emotionally. Too tired to care about how awkward this was, too tired to care that her heart throbbed and ached at the sight of him and the memory of that kiss. Her lips were still tender from it.

"I'm not myself, but I am fine. I will be, at least. Always am." she shrugged, cradling the cup in her hands just below her chest, letting the warmth of the glass seap into her stomach.

"We've worked together for five years, Haymitch. I was a fool to hope for anything more than we've had all this time. I just thought we've both been alone for so long, maybe we could be alone together...I thought being friends rather than fighting and hating each other might make things just a little easier." She shrugged and looked at a plant to his left, anything but him for too long.

"...My own people here in the Capitol don't want me or even like me, I was silly to think you could." She smiled that sad smile again. "I, um...I finished a lot of work today, I think I may spend a day or two at the spa...think you can manage not to wreck the place while I'm gone?"

That's right, Effie. Play it cool, put on that smile you were trained to use, ignore the kiss, just pretend long enough to get by as sighed through his teeth, clenching his jaw very slightly and flicking his eyes back to her when he caught her looking away. He couldn't look her in the eye. At least she admitted she wasn't fine, not completely. It was obvious to see she wasn't, even under that much makeup.

His thoughts absently travelled back, albeit a little fuzzily, to the previous night. Wiping the makeup off her, he remembered being quietly astounded at just how much was on there. And just how much nicer she looked without it. It wasn't really Effie he hated. He just pretended to. He hated the Capitol side, the wigs, the makeup, the ridiculous eyelashes, the clothes. Everything that cried Capitol. Not Effie, she was a different person. Sighing again deeply, Haymitch closed his eyes and held up two fingers to his forehead, dipping his head toward the ground as she continued. Alone together? That was an interesting way of phrasing 'friends'.

He hadn't really ever given Effie cause to think he didn't hate her, he was rarely civil and when he was, it wasn't for very long. And now she was going because of him? Just for a few days but...there was no way in hell he was staying here without some small reason. If she went for two days, Haymitch was going back to 12 the next day. It wasn't really Effie that kept him from leaving, it was more that she civilly knew how t ohandle the people that spontaneously came calling. Haymitch would through a bottle at them. He had once.

He finally looked up, searching for her eyes and then giving up on that when he couldn't find them. For a long moment they just stood there in silence, until finally, Haymitch broke it.

"I don't really..hate you."A sound escaped her lips, somewhere between a laugh and a gasp as tears threatened to find their way to the surface again. Her muscles stiffened, her shoulders rigid as she set her cup down on the counter, preparing herself to flee again.

"You don't have to say things because I'm a mess, Haymitch." Her manicured fingers tugged at her purple suit coat, smoothing out the fabric busily. "I'm fine, really."

She cleared her throat and forced herself to meet his eyes, calling on all her powers of Capitol training to smile a real smile. In her haste, Effie's fingers brushed her computer again, bringing the screen to life and the voice back into the tense silence of the room.

"Dullest date he's ever had?" She searched her pockets frantically until she managed to shut the machine down and closed her eyes in shame. It took a long moment to compose herself before looking back at Haymitch again.

"Apparently Seneca didn't enjoy our dinner." She said lamely, though she didn't seem entirely disappointed about it.

Haymitch snorted slightly, shaking his head and flicking his gaze back out the window. Crane, he was simply a first class jerk, it didn't matter who he was with. Hardly a measuring stick, he most likely had the most impossibly high standards. The victor blinked. He didn't need to shift his gaze to be able to tell she was starting to break again, he couldn't blame her for not believing he didn't hate her. As far as she knew, he did, there was nothing else she could think.

"I don't, princess..." He spoke up, filling in the tense silence before Effie could escape back to her room. He wasn't even sure why he was insistant on keeping this going, but once it was over, it was over. It wouldn't have to be dragged out again if he got it all out of him now. Just because he might have feelings, didn't mean he was ever going to act on them, but she could at least know that he didn't hate her.

"I hate the Capitol. You're a different person. You think I kissed ya because I wanted to hurt ya?" _Great...bring that up..._he needed to stop letting his brain decide things without his consent.

Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, turning it a pale lavender beneath the dark shade of purple she used to paint it that day. What was he doing? Did she really deserve this much torture?

Effie laughed, the sound completely humorless compared to her normally musical giggle when she was naturally amused. With a shrug, she finally looked at him, her eyes filling. "I don't know what to think anymore, Haymitch. I don't..." She shook her head hopelessly.

"For five years you've done nothing but throw it in my face that I'm just like them, that I am basically the embodiment of everything you despise..." She blinked her long lashes and licked her lips. "I don't want to believe it, but maybe you did...no matter what I've done, or what I do i'll always be this...I have to dress like this, act like this, drag you around kicking and screaming as I escort these kids to their death every year..." Her shoulders sagged and she wiped her sweating palms over the lap of her dress nervously as she said things she never dared say before.

"I don't like it...I don't like any of it...but I haven't got a choice, I'm a coward...a lonely coward and I don't fit in either your world or my own..." She closed her eyes, turning her head away in an attempt to regain control, drawing in a breath of air so strongly and suddenly that it sounded like a gasp. Effie Trinket never lost control, but this week she had lost her composure three times, and broken down completely twice.

"How can you not hate me? I was resolved to the fact that you always would...and then..." She placed her hand over her heart, afraid it was actually, physically breaking, and turned as though to leave.

Haymitch rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest and waited for her to finish. This wasn't about Effie, this was his attempt at apologizing for kissing her, and it was going absolutely terribly. He didn't hate her, how many damn times did he have to say it before she would believe him and leave him alone?

He hated himself sometimes, well, eighty percent of the day, but he hated himself for different reasons. Haymitch didn't get attached, not to tributes, not to people in his district, not to anyone. It was a bad idea, people he was attached to ended up dying before they should.

There was no way in hell Haymitch would, or could, allow Effie to be attached to him or vice versa, so why was his conscience choosing this time to emerge? Why was he apologizing at all? Just turn around and walk away, ignore her, it worked for five years, there was no reason it wouldn't work now.

But to his mind's enormous displeasure he stepped forward, his eyes narrowing in frustration.

"I said I don't hate you, damn it! Capitol escorts a...different person, I don't know! I didn't kiss you to hurt you, didn't do it for you at all!"

Effie remained still, her back to him, shoulders sagging as her feelings shattered on the floor at her feet. That was the way of it, wasn't it? Effie the Escort, throw her away to twelve, spread any sort of rumors for entertainment...Effie get this, Effie get that... Effie call the children. Effie work with the violent drunk.

Effie, go out with Seneca Crane to dinner or else...Why not lose her first kiss to a drunk that hates her? Of course it wasn't about her at all. Why would anything about her matter? Especially her feelings? She was crying, so she wouldn't face him. Couldn't face him...it was bad enough that she couldn't keep the tears from her voice. Sniffing, Effie tried to take a calming breath and let her shoulders sag in defeat. She didn't even know how to fight him anymore.

"Do me a favor...?" She said sadly, turning her face just slightly to the side, only enough to show the corner of her eye. "Next time you'd like to make an experiment? Find a different person to experiment with...Because I can't take it..."

Was she honestly that upset? It was just a kiss, it wasn't like he'd tried to feel her up or anything. An experiment, like she said, that was exactly what it had been and it wouldn't have worked with any other random woman. He still wasn't sure what he had been trying to achieve, just that the feelings swimming around in his gut were bloody hard to identify.

With a low, frustrated grunt Haymitch closed the distance a little more, she didn't get it, this was as close to apologising as he was capable of.

"I'm trying to apologise, princess! I'm not tryin' to hurt you and I wasn't then, so accept it, it was just a kiss!"

Just a kiss, that's all it was, all it would be and all it could be. No, he didn't want to hurt her, he cared enough for that, it was the only thing Haymitch was remotely certain of. The messy swirl of emotions were washing through his stomach, making his feel slightly nauseas. His curiosity was getting the better of him, he wanted to know what the nagging feeling in his mind was, the one that made him kiss her in the first place.

"I only did it because I'm trying to figure myself out, okay? I don't even know what the hell I feel. You're not the only bloody confused person here."She closed her eyes, tensing as he drew closer.

She wanted to run away.

Needed to run away.

Just a kiss.

Just like she was just an escort, just a capitol employee.

Just Effie.

Just.

"I'm tired..." she said, sounding completely drained. "I don't want to fight anymore...I'm sorry for all the trouble. Good night." She scratched at her head and made her way to her the next two days, Effie kept to her schedule. When she wasn't working, she was in her room. She didn't know what to do anymore, what to say, all she could think of was the last five years and how she seemed to be more of a tool or the Capitol and a servant for anyone else. She just didn't matter. It was hard to argue with that.


	17. Chapter 17

Effie wanted to disappear, and so she worked as many hours as she possibly could. She was finally giving Haymitch the space he always shouted for, but she wanted more, needed more. It would have been better to leave things alone and stay as they had been. Who could have known it would hurt this much? That she cared enough for it to hurt this much?

Finally, one day she came home, made her evening cup of tea and took it to her room. She rummaged a suit case from beneath the bed and opened it over her mattress and began packing. A couple of days, thats all she needed. After a while, she came out and went to the kitchen to make another cup of tea.

"Haymitch?" She said, seeing the back of his head above the couch. "Just letting you know in case anyone asks or the children need anything. I'm going away for a day or two. Shouldn't be long, and I'll just be a call away if needed." She busied herself with making her tea and wiping down the counter.

_Damn the wall, damn the coffee table, damn his shoe..._they all annoyed him everyday. A lot. For no reason, they just did. With every empty bottle Haymitch grew increasingly more annoyed, more frustrated, more on edge and not quite as drunk he would like. He wanted to drink everything away, even his name, and he did the night Effie had walked off on his attempt to apologise. But now he couldn't, it wasn't enough liquor, there never would be enough for him.

She hadn't spoken to him, not like he had made any effort to speak to her. It was just too much bother, too much wrestling with himself to bother with her for now. The drunk hadn't slept a wink for two days now, and dark rings had long since formed around his eyes. He was afraid to sleep at night at the best of times and now it was just impossible.

He didn't have feelings for Effie Trinket. That wasn't possible. He didn't.

He jolted up slightly, hearing her move in the kitchen, say something about going away. _Like hell she was running away from him._ Okay, so he did have feelings for her, it had just been so long since he had, he'd forgotten what it was like. He wasn't acting on it, that was for sure, it would fade quickly.

He laughed, emptily, heavily, more of a chuckle. "You're what, princess?"

Effie sighed and leaned against the counter, palms flat on the smooth cool surface. Here they go...round two thousand. She straightened, her shoulders stiffening.

"I'm going away for a day or two. I have things that I need to do."

It was too hard being here like this, feeling what she felt, seeing him and hearing him be the way he always was. What was she? Some doll he could experiment with? Some punching bag to push around? No. She had to get away...it was either get away or put in for a transfer, and she wasn't sure she could do that.

Haymitch snorted, turning his head a quarter of an inch in her direction. Lying through her teeth she was. Eight times out of ten he could tell when someone was lying to him and she definitely was. He knew for a fact she didn't have anything she had to do yet.

"You're lying. You're running away from me." He shrugged slightly, trying to look unbothered and lifting a new bottle to his lips. He didn't like that she was trying to get away from him one little bit. It might be better for her but it was irritating him, and he was already on edge as it was, he didn't have any desire to be more so.

Apologies didn't work, that was obvious, he shouldn't have tried it. If Haymitch had the sense to shut up when he should then they would both probably still be in an awkward, more civil place. Far more pleasant than he was finding this. Effie sagged, her face tense with tiredness and defeat. What more could she say or do? She turned her back to him, trying to tell herself his sneer and shrug, his tone of voice didn't stab at the raw and bleeding mess that was her heart.

Finally, she walked around the counter and sank into a chair opposite the couch, habitually crossing her legs. "Does it really matter?"

She shook her head, pressing her lips together and glancing up at the ceiling before dropping her big blue eyes to his face.

"Everything you've ever said to me from day one has been to make sure I knew how much you couldn't stand me, and how little I mattered...I'm nothing but the face of the Capitol to you...and without the wig and makeup I'm a doll to experiment with. I wasn't even allowed my first kiss to matter."

She shrugged, her voice holding nothing but hurt and defeat, surrender. "Why does it matter where I go or why?"He was surprised when she left her fortress of a counter and come around to face him. Even more surprised when Effie actually looked at him.

Yeah, there was the truth, he was right. She was running away. Over a bloody kiss, over him trying to be nice to her. Granted, he hadn't done a particularly great job, but at least Haymitch had tried to be civil and nicer.

Slumping back against the arm of the couch he drew one foot up, leaving the other on the floor. He kept his expression blank, barely even blinked for fear of even that giving something away. Instinctively he took another long swig when she kept talking, hiding that little bit of emotion back down where it belonged, underneath his liquor.

Why did it matter that she was running off? Because he didn't like it. Haymitch loved his solitude, and lived it for most of the year, but now he didn't want her out of the penthouse. He didn't like people who ran from their problems, whether they tried to face them or not, if there was another choice, he'd rather she stay. And there was another choice.

Haymitch had to sit up slightly, coughing and spitting a healthy amount of amber liquid over onto his shirt. Her first kiss? No way. He couldn't believe that, it was almost enough to make him feel ashamed of stealing it. Effie's first kiss, bet she never thought it would be from a middle aged drunk from District 12.

"You are kiddin' me right? And did I say once that it didn't matter?"

Her eyes flashed then, her cheeks tinting red. "Yes you did! More than once, in fact!" She looked down at her hands, breathing deep to regain her composure. "You said it, and you absolutely showed it." Her hands rubbed at her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup before looking up at him again.

One eyebrow went up, and he leaned back slightly as she snapped. There was the Effie he'd grown used to, back for a second before looking down away from him again. With a frustrated groan Haymitch rubbed the hand not holding his bottle over his face, wiping the liquor off his jaw and swung his other leg back onto the floor.

"Well then I lied! I do that, princess!"

He...lied? About what exactly...the kiss? His feelings? What he felt about her? Effie's heart sped up a little, her breath felt icy in her throat, burning in her lungs. What did that even mean?

"I know what people say about me, the other district teams and sponsors. I know why they say it, too...its all lies, but somehow, in the last five years I managed to become the Capitol joke...or worse...So please, tell me..." She looked at him tiredly, sighing heavily. "...Why does it matter to you where I am, where I go or what I do, Haymitch Abernathy?"

He heard the rumors, it wasn't that hard not to hear them, and he was more often than not the other part of those rumors. Usually over-hearing the implications ending up in Haymitch throwing something, usually his fist, and successfully making a scene in the middle of whatever event it happened to be that time.

It mattered to him, wasn't that reason enough for her? It was damn wel enough of a reason for him. What did she expect, a heartfelt declaration of his undying love, because that was not coming.

"Does it bloody matter why? You're running away, that's why it concerns me, because you're running away from me...meant somethin'. Don't ask me what because I don't know."

Could he care? Could he mean it when he said he didn't hate her? She looked up at him, her big blue eyes wide with surprise, then she looked passed him to the wall to keep her composure.

"So what, then? It meant something, you care...that's nice for you...but what does it mean for me? Am I supposed to just stand around and get used and abused and pretend everything's peachy?"

"I told you, I don't know, I kissed you because I was trying to figure the stupid thing out."

Of course he cared, he cared enough to try not to care so she wouldn't be in any more danger. He wasn't heartless, however nice it would be to seem that way sometimes. He just wanted to be left alone, to stop all this nonsense and go home to his district and keep himself isolated for another year.

"I frankly don't care what you do, as long as it ain't runnin' away. Do whatever you like, princess. I have no respect for runners." Not that Haymitch had respect for anyone. And that included himself, he was running all the time, he never stopped, and he hated himself for that.

She winced as he threw the bottle aside, expecting it to break. "I'm not running away..."

She tried to be patient, tried not to cry. All she wanted was to run away right then, to get away from him and his abrupt way of speaking, his cold eyes, the tension in his body. "For five years I've stood my ground, cleaned you up through hangovers, after brawls, withstood your temper tantrums and your insults..." With a great effort, Effie pushed herself tiredly to her feet. "I don't see how needing a few days after all of this gives you any right to tell me what to do...or how to feel."

With a grunt he downed the rest of the liquor and carelessly threw the bottle to the side. He had no eloquence, anything he tried to say would come out wrong and she'd probably break down into tears again, which was the last thing he needed now.

"Doesn't matter."

"Please..." Effie said, her heart sinking again as she looked at him. "Please stop switching back and forth...either it matters or it doesn't..." She pleaded.

She let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. "What am I supposed to do? If you have so many thoughts all of a sudden...What am I supposed to do?

Her eyes locked with his, watering with tears though she held herself in firm control. "Are you trying to say you'd actually want me around? Because we both know that's impossible."

Haymitch groaned, pressing his fingers to his head and trying to fight back the headache that didn't have much to do with alcohol. He looked up, meeting her watering eyes with his cold grey ones.

"It matters, okay, princess? It just does and I don't know for the life of me why but I would rather you stayed here then run off."

There, it was hard enough to open any emotional door even enough to just let that come out of his mouth, couldn't he just close it and drink away whatever feelings he had for Effie? It would work, he was almost certain of it. She wasn't the only person in this room having a hard time, and she probably had no idea why it was so hard for him just to say he'd rather she stayed.

"But go on then, run away if you want. I shouldn't bloody care what you do." Haymitch grunted, looking back down at the carpet and reaching blindly with one hand for another bottle, cursing when it wasn't there. "I really shouldn't."

Effie blinked, her mouth dropping open. That was probably the closest he had ever come to saying something nice to her in the five years they had known each other. For a long time, she watched him, watched his eyes, the way his emotions raged in them made her heart constrict.

Finally, hesitating, struggling with words, Effie worked up the courage to try one more time. "...You know...as much as we fight...I...I know it doesn't make sense...but..." She wrung her fingers together in her lap, nervous, afraid of starting another shouting match, hating that cold look of icy disdain he so often shot at her.

She looked up, managing enough courage to meet his eyes again though her own were far less than confident. "...I want to be with you. ...When you're not raging at me...I like sitting with you...even if we never say a word...I can't explain it, and I know you'll probably hate hearing it...I know what it's like to be alone...and I've always hated how the Capitol and the people we work with treat you..." She let out a shaky sigh, her eyes filling.

"Is it really such a horrible thing for someone to care for you?"Horrible? Not so much, it was unfamiliar, it was weird, it was awkward, but it wasn't really horrible. Why on earth would she actually like sitting with him, granted, "with" usually meant on the opposite side of the couch. Really the only times they really just sat were usually during the Games or after Haymitch calmed down after losing a tribute.

"Yeah? Well I like the way I'm treated. It's fitting and it's best, princess, would do you well to remember that."

Why couldn't Effie just be like the rest of the escorts were? Why couldn't she just be the disapproving and schedule obsessed woman she was in public? Then Haymitch wouldn't be so confused, and he coud hate her like he did the rest of the Capitol, and she could hate him and everyone would be better off.

"Yes, it's such a bad thing, you shouldn't even want to like me, let alone like being in the same room. I've never done anything to make you like me."

Her shoulders sagged and her brows met as her confidence wavered more. He wasn't yelling, that was something, wasn't it? She sat a little closer to the edge of the chair, tense. "But why? Why do you like being treated like that? Why is it so fitting? Why do you want me to hate you?"

She just couldn't understand it. "We're going to be stuck working together for who knows how long...why can't we be friends at least?" A tear fell, just one, and Effie looked as lost and helpless as she felt. "Nobody deserves to be alone...just let me be your friend..."

Haymitch cringed, scowling at the coffee table like it was about to leap out and attack him, feeling the sudden urge to stab it if he had his knife handy. She didn't need to know, nobody needed to know and very, very few people did know everything that was wrong with him. Everything that had screwed him up for probably the rest of his life.

"Because, I deserve it. You don't want to be my friend and I sure as hell don't want more blood on my hands."

He could try and be civil, but he really couldn't control what he did when he was drunk, at least eighty percent of the time he wasn't even aware of what he was doing at all. What else could he say, she obviously wasn't going to listen, wouldn't believe him if he openly told her the truth and said it was for her own sighed heavily and stood. She didn't know what else to say, didn't know what else to do. She just knew she couldn't keep this up. Smoothing out her clothes from wrinkles, Effie didn't look at him for a long time.

"...I won't go away." She said at last. "But I'm also not going to fight with you any more. Do what you like...I don't know what to do anymore...I give up."

She walked across to stand next to the couch, taking the handle of her suit case to return to her room but paused and looked at him.

"I've been alone for a long time, I know how to be lonely..." she said softly. "...What I don't know is how to make myself hate someone when I don't hate them at all. I don't want to fight anymore, so I won't. You win, Haymitch." With that, she started rolling her luggage back down the hall.

Haymitch winced again, running a hand over his face and wishing he was a lot more drunk than he was. This was just enough to keep him on eager and irritable. This was almost worse than screaming matches across the room, than Effie breaking down in tears and Haymitch storming out. Effie was just giving up, turning and walking away just like that.

Ah stuff it...he didn't know what he was going to do, and whatever it was he'd probably blame the alcohol for it later, but Haymitch screwed up his face once and opened his mouth before she disappeared out of earshot.

"It's for your own good, you know, princess. I'm saying that for you, not for me.""Of course it is. But what about yours?" She shook her head, the tears beginning to fall properly. It was her luck, the one man to actually sneak through the cracks in her heart was the one man that hated her most. The one man it would be impossible to be with. How had it even happened? All they did was fight and scream and insult one another.

...And bring children through this hell, train them, care for them, and watch them die. In some twisted way it was like being foster parents and then feeding them to the sharks. Effie had never seen anyone care about their tributes, no Capitol person, anyway. The other mentors she had no contact with, only narrow eyed glares from across the room when she saw them at gatherings. Haymitch she saw. She could see the pain in his eyes when they were called, reliving the time when his own name was reaped. She watched as his drinking worsened and he eyed them, knowing instantly whether or not they would survive just by looking at them because he knew the look of resignation when they already accepted their deaths. Each time she stood up to give the speech, call the names, a piece of Effie died and broke away.

Each child that she grew to know, connected with, each one took a piece of her with them when they were slain. Every year she was told not to bond with them, keep her distance and just give them what they needed, but Effie knew better. IT wasn't about her. Those children needed to be loved for just a little longer before walking to their death, and whether that meant her heart broke a week later or not, so be it. Haymitch saw it. Haymitch shared it. As hard as he tried to pretend he didn't care, the broken furniture and empty bottles each year said so much more.

Maybe that's what he did now, pretended. Maybe he was telling the truth caring, not hating her, about it being for her own good...but what about his good? Why couldn't he have someone care for him? Whatever he thought he did to deserve his solitude and punishment, the Capitol was to blame, not him. Once she was in her room, Effie closed the door and leaned against it. She was overwhelmed, her heart physically ached for change. She needed the anger, the resentment, the bitter sneers...she needed it all to stop. Five years was five too many and God help her, she loved him. She didn't know how, couldn't explain it, and maybe that was for the better. Love was meant to be unconditional, a gift. Maybe it shouldn't be explained.

...But it was meant to be hopeful, and that was one thing Effie Trinket had finally run out of.


	18. Chapter 18

No. His own good wasn't an option for him, not at all. Even if it was, this would be for his good. He didn't think he could take having anyone else's blood on his hands, didn't want to be hurt again before he recovered, which wasn't very likely to happen anyway.

With a quiet groan Haymitch dropped back, swinging both legs up on the couch and sinking back into the cushions, grasping again for a bottle that wasn't there. Year in, year out, he watched kids that were his responsibility die, kids he had long since given up on unless he saw potential. Katniss and Peeta had been the first pair in at least the past ten years. Haymitch had failed them all until this year and he held himself totally responsible-next to the Capitol anyway.

And so, it didn't matter whatever feelings he had for Effie, they'd fade, they had to. It was much better this way for both of them. She'd stay alive and he wouldn't have to be hurt again. Haymitch didn't move from the couch for the rest of the night and stayed into the next morning.

Effie had risen early and left the apartment making as little noise as possible. She had a meeting with all the other escorts and gamemakers. She dreaded it, and therefore dressed to the best of her ability, hiding behind her fashion and make up. She was gone until well after lunch, despite the meeting only taking three hours. After the meeting, Seneca Crane had insisted on taking her out to lunch. He simpered and flirted, and tried to intimidate her, being sure to caution her about keeping Mr. Abernathy well in his place.

Throughout the meal that Effie hardly touched, he would graze her hand with his fingers, look her brazenly up and down, subtly make comments about taking her home sometime to get to know each other better. Right. Effie kenw better. He wasn't fooling anyone, but she was terrified that one day he might not give her much choice. He wasn't used to being told no about anything. ...and especially not with women.

By the time she returned to the apartment and made it to the kitchen for tea, Effie was in tears. Makeup be damned.

The sound of the door swinging closed, accompanied with the sharp tapping of heels straight past him woke Haymitch from his unusually restful sleep. With a shout he shot up, instinctively thrashing blindly for a moment until his hand struck the table and rolled him off onto the floor.

That had been the first sleep he'd had that lasted longer than two hours in far too long.

He groaned and flopped back onto his back, head pounding with a vengeance and rubbing his hand where it had struck the table. What now? Couldn't anyone make the slightest effort to be quiet when he was in pain and hungover? Ever?

"Stupid...bloody..." Using the edge of the couch as support, Haymitch dragged himself half up and found Effie in the kitchen. Blinking away a wave of dizziness, he realized she was crying again, what on earth had he done now? He'd made a point not to deviate from staying either on the couch or in his room and give her space.

"I don't care what you think I did this time, I-ow- didn't." He grumbled, rubbing at his eyes.

Water flooded into the kettle as she sniffed, her tears mixing with the water as she placed the kettle on the stove. Somewhere over her shoulder, Effie heard the ruckus Haymitch made has he woke, she hadn't meant to wake him and quickly tried dabbing at her cheeks, using the reflection of the black glass awning over the stove to clean up the smudges on her face.

"I don't know what you mean." She managed, her voice sounding broken. She should have just gone the day before. Not bothered warning him. Her fingers fumbled with the knob on the stove, turning up the heat so her kettle would heat faster.

"I'm just making a cup of tea, then I'll let you have the area in quiet." She said apologetically, keeping her back to him.

He scowled at her, trying to make his vision clear, make the multiple fuzzy copies following her around morph into the real thing. "Could you stop acting like I'm blind, princess?"

He didn't mean it to sound harsh, far from it, but really, Haymitch hungover had one tone and one tone only and it was generally harsh. She did though, she always acted as though he couldn't see anything past the end of his nose, even in the small margin of time he spent actually sober.

Like it or not, Haymitch was observant enough to notice when someone was upset, observant enough to know when Effie was hurt or insulted.

"Believe it or-damn it, ouch!-...or not, I can actually distinguish emotions sometimes. I'm not a complete jerk." Though he would like to be sometimes.

With a wince he closed his eyes for a moment to stop the spinning and held his head. He had no idea where she had been all day, he'd spent it drinking in his room and then ended up out here when he had no pillows left to stab. But Effie was upset and something in him wanted to know why, because it certainly hadn't been him this time.

"S'wrong?" He asked a little more softly.

Effie had to stifle a whimper as he snapped, his tones harsh, but she told herself it was the hangover talking even though that was how he normally spoke to her anyway. She just couldn't handle him coming at her, too. She needed time to compose herself. Her back still to him, she dabbed at her eyes again with a cloth, hoping they weren't smudged too badly as she listened to him suffering from one too many bottles.

He actually sounded concerned that time, it caught her off guard. With another sniff, and a shuddering breath, Effie rummaged softly through a drawer and found some powerful pain killing pills she took when having a migraine, filled a cup with water and softly crossed the space between them to offer the items to the very hungover victor. She stood, waiting for him to look up at her, notice she was there now.

"...Just a very bad day, that's all." She said softly. Knowing that wouldn't satisfy him, Effie shrugged, looking vulnerable. "...Like I said, you're not my only trouble...Seneca Crane isn't the gentleman he wants everyone to believe." Wordlessly he took them, nodding very slightly in gratitude, leaving the water on the table and swallowing two of the pills, taking a third as an afterthought and then downing half the glass of water. He listened silently, frowning and opening his mouth to say something when she continued anyway, her voice still wavering.

Yeah, he should have figured it would be Crane. Sly snake in the grass who took every chance he could get to eye Effie up and down, stare pointedly at her chest with a look that made Haymitch want to rip his eyes out all the more.

Closing his eyes for a few moments, waiting for the lump that was water and pills to slip down his throat, the mentor finally looked up, his Seam grey eyes meeting her own unsteadily. He didn't fail to notice the smudged makeup, more of her real face showing through now, he liked that face a lot more. Her normal skin as opposed to purple or sometimes green.

"No kiddin'...shoulda known it was 'im." He scowled at the wall just behind Effie's dragged in a ragged breath, smoothing her hands over her dress as he took the pills and drank the water. He wasn't being snide or insulting, wasn't blaming her or lashing out. He even seemed to thank her for the pills and water.

It made her think they had made some progress, however little. "He doesn't like to be told no..." She said, almost a whisper, her head snapping up as the kettle started to sing.

Fearing the noise hurting haymitch's head, she quickly slipped out of her heels in order to run to the stove with as little noise as possible, quickly moving the kettle off and into the sink, removing the lid to stop the whistling. Quietly as possible, Effie made her cup of tea and stepped around the counter, merging toward her room.

"...I'm sorry I woke you, I hope your head feels better..."

Haymitch scowled again, almost about to act on the sudden urge to put a hand on her shoulder when the kettle whistled. It was about the worst noise possible when he was hungover, high pitched and loud enough to make Haymitch groan and clap the hand that was starting to go to Effie clap over his head.

"Bloody..."

After what felt like an eternity the noise ceased, ringing on inside his head for still longer afterwards as he listened to the abnormally loudly chinking of a teaspoon in the cup. It was worth it really, it was almost always worth the raging hangover when he woke up. If it meant he could get a few hours of precious sleep, it was worth it. If it meant he could temporarily forget how miserable his life was in his opinion, it was worth it. And if it meant he could forget those feelings for Effie, it was worth it.

Unfortunately they didn't go away half as easily as the rest of it. Hearing her speak again and start off toward her bedroom, Haymitch turned around.

"Hold on...I..." He screwed up his nose, staring only at the coffee table and not looking at her, it would be even more embarrassing if he did that. "I do care, you know, don't like the way he treats ya either."

Effie froze, her lips nearly grazing the top of the steaming liquid in her tea cup. What was he going to say now? Her stomach twisted painfully, dreading what he might say, the tone he might use...but when he finally spoke, managed to get his thoughts out, Effie felt her eyes misting again as her heart throbbed in her chest.

He cared. She heard it...he meant it. He was the first person to acknowledge the way Crane treated her, She turned, softly, silently walking over to stand behind him where he sat on the couch. He felt, rather than heard her walk up behind him and didn't turn around, just fixed his eyes on his foot. Unwittingly his survival instincts kicked in, all of them telling him to turn around or risk having his throat cut. A light pressure on his cheek made him straighten, frowning slightly as he tried to figure out what it was. Until he heard her whispering:

"Thank you."

Thank you? For what? When had he even done something to merit a thank you? Especially from Effie. And a kiss with it?

Before the Victor could say something, or act on his urge to stand up and kiss her again, one which he repressed faster than he could swallow a glass of bourban, Effie was gone.

Did he say something different? He was sure he said something actually nice, that was nice wasn't it? It was nice for him, she could interpret it how she liked, and if that meant freezing on the spot then so be it. Letting out a breath, Haymitch dropped to the couch, quietly kicking himself for being stupid enough to let himself say that.

Late that evening, the door bell rang and Effie answered it with a fresh outfit and makeup. She had ordered in a large dinner, enough for the two of them as everyone else had left for the night, the avoxes and stylists and anyone else who happened to be part of the 12 team.

She set the table, arranging things in an orderly manner for easy access and once satisfied, she tiptoed down the hall and hesitated with her knuckels inches from Haymitch's door. How lucky would she be if he was still as calm and nice now as he was before?

She wrapped her knuckles on the door, her face close to the wood. "Haymitch? There is food on the table if you're hungry..."

Turning, Effie put a hand over her heart. He was probably angry with her for that kiss. Everything was so confusing, she never knew what he would react to or not. All she knew was she was grateful that someone had finally shown concern for her, however little. ...And he admitted he cared. Maybe they could be friends...

Haymitch had spent the hours in his room, not without raiding the small bar first, and not leaving it. As far as he knew, Effie wasn't going to be leaving her room anytime soon, even if she did, what was he supposed to do? No. It was just better this way if he simply stayed in his room and avoided any awkward encounters.

It was kind of nice, he'd never admit it aloud and it almost killed Haymitch just to admit it to himself, but it was nice to be thanked, especially like that, even if he had no idea what on earth he had done. There was no denying his feelings for Effie now, even battling a hangover and nightmares every half hour he tried to sleep it off.

The pills helped slightly, that was thoughtful of her. No...this was a bad idea, Haymitch. Bad idea.

He was slumped on the floor now, back against the large window and opening a new bottle, impatiently brushing away a few feathers from various pillows that were littered about the room.

He knew that knock, the same knock he heard most mornings to wake him up and one that he normally responded to angrily. This time he only flicked his eyes to the door and listened quietly from across the room, waiting until he heard Effie's retreating footsteps before he got up with a grunt, pulling the bottle with him and slowly crossing the room. Even he had to eat sometimes, and Capitol food was by far better than what he ate back in the Victor's Village with no cooking skills at all.

"M'coming."

Effie was placing a bowl of ice on the table for his drink when he came out. She straightened, a light blush tinting her cheeks. She wore the bare minimum of makeup, only having her eyes covered, really, with a smokey, shadowy purple that hid the puffy circles left there from crying.

"I wasn't sure what you would like, so I got a little of everything..." She shrugged, "I haven't eaten much the last couple of days, so I thought it would be good to have left overs."

she had spent the day locked in her room, taking a long hot bubble bath and drinking her tea. It was a miracle, that he admitted he cared, that he didn't like how Crane treated her. No one else cared, everyone else chastized her for refusing Crane...He was a scorned lover while she some whorish vixen toying with his heart as far as their colleagues were concerned.

The fact that someone saw, cared, and didn't like how she was treated warmed her heart and gave her a fresh breath. She had been alone for years, taking care of herself for years...and this last year had drained her. She was tired...and as the abuse from her coworkers increased, with each fight she had with Haymitch, the more worn out Effie became and the less she knew what to 's eyes flicked from Effie, to the food and back for a moment, slightly surprised to see how little makeup she was wearing. Lifting the bottle back to his lips he took a swig, revelling in the familiar burn that was more than welcome now.

"Thanks..." He muttered, glancing away and straightening slightly, he could handle this, he would at least be civil to her, it was bad idea to be anything more but he could handle civil now. Slipping past her he shifted around, putting his bottle beside the ice as he joined her. For a tense few minutes they were silent but for the sound of cutlery on Effie's part. Haymitch always preferred to eat with his hands, or right off the knife if he had to use silverware. Half the meal passed before his curiosity got the better of him.

"Why'd you..." He broke the silence, letting his sentence trail off and making sure she saw him tapping his cheek to fill the gap. "Just curious."

There was something different in his air, different in his countenance and Effie did her best to study him when he wasn't aware of it, trying to figure out what the change might be. He was...softer, somehow...barely noticeable, but still... They ate in silence, a tension between them she couldn't describe, too tired to try.

She froze, a bit of steak half way to her mouth when he finally broke the silence. Her big blue eyes looked across the table at him and she swallowed an imaginary bite of food. "Why did I...kiss you?" She asked hesitantly, frantically trying to find the words.

For a long time, she didn't respond...she set her fork and knife down gently on either side of her plate and took the napkin from her lap to dab daintily at her lips. "...I told you before," She shrugged softly. "...I know what it's like to be alone...for the last few years I've had to take care of myself, protect myself...but there isn't much I can do when it comes to my employers..." Honesty was the best policy, right?

"...My "bloodlines" aren't as pure and loyal as the Capitol typically demands because of what I told you about my father..." She was shaking a little, her throat suddenly dry. she took a drink. "My coworkers and employers think I'm an easy target because of this, think I'll be desperate enough to do whatever it takes to climb the ladder...but I'm not. ...Crane has wanted me for several years, but I've always said no...which is why he treats me the way he does..."

She sighed, shrugging again, looking away and swallowing. "...When..." This was the part he'd probably blow up about. "...When you said you cared, and that you didn't like how he treated me..." Her cheeks flushed. "...It was the first time I haven't felt alone in a very long time." Her blue eyes slowly drifted back to meet his grey ones, almost holding her breath as she prepared herself for his reaction

Haymitch watched her eyes, only lifting his bottle to his mouth once and never moving his gaze, watching her blue eyes fix themselves on a point behind his head. She was looking at him but she wasn't really, doing what she could to be able to talk.

Dragging his elbows up onto the table and resting his chin on his fingers, Haymitch allowed a frown to cross his face as she finished, her eyes finally flicking up back to meet his own. He opened his mouth and closed it again. What was he supposed to say? Flip the table and storm off, if she had said all that a week ago he probably would have done just that. He actually liked that someone cared for him, it was nice in an unfamiliar way, not that he'd admit it to her.

The victor nodded slowly for lack of words and bit his lip, trying not to think about how much more the natural pink her cheeks now were suited her than the makeup did. He opened his mouth again and sat there rather stupidly trying to think of words. Anything at all.

"It...it's not a good idea for me to care about you or vice versa. But apparently you do, and apparently I do..." he spoke slowly, thoughtfully analyzing every word to be sure it was the right thing to say when in fact, he had no idea what he was doing."The last time somebody cared for me, they died for it, princess. I don't want you dead but...I also wasn't careful back then, I didn't know what I was doin'."Effie cleared her throat awkwardly, sipping stiffly at her tea. Why did she feel the need to tell him anything? He would probably think she was whining or something. Poor little capitol girl, poor spoiled thing...her feeling were hurt again. She frowned, searching her mind for something, anything to change the subject to, anything far from herself when Haymitch shifted and spoke.

Her eyes very softly trailed from the table up to his face, lingering uncertainly on his seam grey eyes. Her lips parted slightly in surprise as she listened.

Effie couldn't believe her ears, couldn't be sure she was hearing correctly. His voice was different, calm, the usual growling undertone missing as he slowly attempted to get his thoughts out.

"Is...is that..." She tried to speak, but her throat was dry, her words getting stuck as she sat a little straighter, setting her teacup aside. Understanding and concern filled her expression. "...You really meant it...you've treated me like this to keep me safe...you really thought you were protecting me? Really wanted to?"

Nobody had cared that much for her since her parents were taken. It touched her...deeply, and Effie couldn't help fearing this was all a dream and she would wake up to him drunk and screaming , that wasn't entirely true...it was just true recently. He had hated her as much as he hated the rest of the Capitol, at least for the most part of those five years he'd known her. Effie had shown herself to be just like the others, vain, annoying and wrapped up in Capitol "fashions", the only difference he bothered to notice was that she actually seemed to care about the tributes she reaped.

"I don't want someone else's blood on my hands, got more than my share of that already." Literally and othewise. He wished he was drunk, he was barely tipsy now. Habitually he lifted the bottle and took another swig, shifting his eyes away from Effie's to fix on a point just over her shoulder.

"But I do care...I'd be lyin' if I said I didn't anymore."


	19. Chapter 19

The urge to lean over and kiss her came and went with another swig of liquor, he shouldn't be doing this, it was stupid. He cared far too much, and more than he cared to admit.

He was lonely sometimes, Effie was right about that. Not enough to make him want that to change, he liked his solitude just as much, preferred it. Except for now. He didn't want Effie out of the penthouse, he didn't want Effie to run away from him. He almost didn't want to be alone.

Effie visibly relaxed and a very soft smile tugged at her lips, actually managing to reach her eyes. At least if he was able to admit this, then maybe they could build from it, actually be friends. Effie couldn't help the hope swelling up inside her, the way her heart rate picked up a little.

"Then we can be friends?" she asked, trying not to sound too eager. "If we're going to work together, we could be friends...help each other...be there for each other..."

Yeah...friends. He didn't have friends...he didn't really have anything else either, and this meant he only had to be civil to her at least. He wasn't entirely happy with that, but nor was he with anything except liquor. He stayed silent for a few minutes, flicking his gaze between her more positive one and his bottle, lingering on both for a few seconds.

"Mm...friends, I guess...you know..." He picked up his knife, twirling it on it's point on the plate. Stuff being friends, he knew how she felt about him, she'd made that clear and however befuddled he was as to why she did, he quietly returned it. Her smile remained softly on her lips, a weight visibly lifted off of her as they ate together in silence. Effie may be fashion focussed, a little vain, but she was not greedy, and hearing Haymitch actually admit he cared for her and didn't want her hurt was an enormous step. She would be happy with that, she could be happy with that. Friends. She hadn't had one of those...

"S'only dangerous..." He skewered a piece of chicken, spinning the knife in his fingers in front of him, keeping his gaze trained on that before looking up with a faint hint of an almost smile "It's only dangerous if people knew."

When he spoke again, Effie had just put a bite of vegetables in her mouth and the carrot she swallowed lodged in her throat on some invisible shelf that had never been there before. Was he really suggesting...Her big blue eyes shot up to his face, wide with shock as she coughed, a hand over her throat as she reached for her water and took a quick sip.

"Are you..." she wheezed, turning her face away to clear her throat. "...Are you suggesting what I think you are?"

Haymitch shrugged slightly and held her eyes, smirking a little in amusement at the shock, that would definitely have been the last thing she expected him to say. Perhaps he was a little more drunk than he thought, but he knew exactly what he meant and it was exactly what he'd said.

"Don't make me say it again. It's only dangerous if people figured it out, and there's not much danger of that. I'm a good liar." He flicked his eyes away, lifting his bottle back to his lips and tried to will himself to wake up. He was being ridiculous and probably making a fool of himself but he didn't have the slightest idea what else to say to make her believe him. Effie probably thought he was just toying with her. "I told you, I was tryin' to figure myself out. Still not sure I have, but I got pretty good idea."

Effie bit down on her lower lip, the red lipstick she had chosen that day turning pink under the pressure. How drunk was he? Would he remember saying any of this later? Did he mean it? Her hands were clasped in her lap, wringing together with nervous tension. She was getting nervous, wary, what if this wasn't real? What if this was just the liquor talking? She swallowed hard, watching his face. He looked sincere...sounded sincere...So what now? Her arms ached in a strange way, like something about him was drawing her like a magnet. She wanted to hug him, to rest her ear against his chest, suddenly curious about how his heart must sound.

"Anything is better than nothing..." She said softly, licking her lips. "...Wouldn't it be nice to have someone you know you can trust, someone who cares for you? Even if it's just in secret?" her voice shook slightly, timidly, afraid of what her words might cause. "...We've...we've both been alone for so long..." Against her better judgement, her eyes came to rest gently on his, almost holding her breath.

Haymitch cringed slightly, what was he doing? This wasn't gonna work out. Something would inevitably go wrong and then they'd both just end up hurt...or worse.

"You're right about that, princess."

Twenty-four years was long enough, he just hadn't expected being alone to take it's toll on him so heavily, or at all. The mentor was used to it, resigned and happy to be alone. Apparently there were plans now, surprisingly appealing plans.

With a sigh he got up, he was sincere, he was probably willing to give it a shot against his better judgement and every part of him screaming out to leave her alone and pretend this hadn't happened. But if the Capitol didn't find out, then she wouldn't be in danger, and he wouldn't have to worry. He was a good liar and a drunk, anything found out he could pass off as being smashed.

Slowly, purposefully he walked back around the table, frowning very slightly and stopping beside Effie's chair. Fine. Just this once he'd give in and stop fighting. Holding out a hand to pull her up gently he flicked his eyes back up to hers for a minute and let the frown ease off.

"Think I am sure."

She stiffened as he rose, holding the arms of her chair, her eyes glued to him as he stood and slowly came around to stand beside her. Here we go, this was it. The calmness, the civility, it was all about to vanish and she was about to see his face change into that vicious sneer just before he turned his back on her. She knew the routine.

You're a fool, Effie Trinket, a naive fool. What did she think would happen? That he'd just catch her up in an embrace and declare his love? Finally, he was beside her chair, his eyes meeting hers and something about the softness there made her insides melt. His large hand reached out to her and Effie almost mechanically placed her smaller one in his palm, letting him tug her up.

The gentleness in his touch surprised her, he was like a different man in that moment, and Effie couldn't keep the smile from her face as she looked up at him as his frown melt away. He looked different when he didn't frown, warm, strong. He always looked strong, but when he didn't frown or scowl it was a more quiet strength, a different one.

That urge bubbled up inside her again, making her arms ache pleasantly while her pulse sped up. "You think so?" She asked quietly, her voice very small.

With a very uncharacteristic surge of bravery, Effie slipped her arms around his waist, lifting her lips slightly, just far enough to place a feather light kiss to his chin. Haymitch could have sworn his heart actually did skip a beat in that moment, he'd never admit that, that would be massively embarrassing for him despite just how far he was dropping his defenses. She wasn't supposed to be able to get through them, she was from the Capitol...no one was supposed to get through them.

Effie had.

He had to fight not to let his heart betray him on the off chance that she could hear it, and settled for breathing out slowly. He wasn't used to this at all, what did he do? Answer her. Say some words, anything, just words.

The victor nodded slowly, surprising himself by not stepping back, almost leaning into her embrace as Effie stayed there. Yes, he liked this, he liked it a lot really, it was nice. He still couldn't define that nagging emotion at the corner of his mind, the one that made him kiss her in the first place, but he pushed that away for now, he'd work it out eventually.

"I think it's safe enough if people don't know it..." With another sigh, Haymitch looked back down at her. She didn't have her heels on now, she was nice size barefoot. He leaned down slightly plucking her chin between his thumb and forefinger for half a moment.

"I think I'm sure..." He muttered so quietly he barely heard himself, giving in and closing the gap to catch her lips with his for the second time.

She leaned into his touch, eyes closed and melted into him, leaning into the embrace as her mind was wiped blank.

The only thing she was aware of in that moment was his lips on hers, his hand holding hers, and his fingers on her chin as his hand flattened around her cheek, cupping her face as she returned the , he definitely liked this. He could definitely get used to this, and he wanted to get used to this. He was tipsy, just enough to know that her breath might smell a bit like bourbon by default, a thought that made him smirk slightly into the kiss. Her cheek was a good deal warmer than her hand was and instinctively he squeezed it lightly to try and warm her.

There was definitely no going back on this now, he wasn't that kind of man. He knew he very much fancied her, the feelings were probably a bit stronger than that, he just wasn't sure he knew what to call it.

The demand for air kept returning to his lungs, impatiently being pushed aside. Haymitch really did not want to stop, he was almost afraid that if he did pull away she'd misinterpret it, or worse, she'd disappear and this would all be some cruel dream his mind conjured up to taunt him with.

Finally it was too strong, and he pulled back, breathing deeply and resting his chin against her forehead, dropping the hand cupping her cheek to run through his own hair, chuckling to himself. He could protect her, he would do a better job, he couldn't let something happen to Effie now.

"Yeah...I...it might work." Effie smiled into the kiss, a relieved and grateful laugh softly sneaking passed her lips in a breathless sort of gasp as he squeezed her hand and cupped her cheek. Who knew this was even possible? Who ever would have imagined? Certainly not her.

Her stomach twisted pleasantly, her heart skipped and raced and her knees felt weak beneath her, leaving her appreciating his strong frame all the more as she leaned into him. When his hand left her cheek and he rested his chin against her forehead, Effie gently ran her hand up his back to hook over his shoulder, holding herself close as if he were her anchor to reality in that moment.

"...Thank you..." It was all she could manage to say. The fact that he was admitting that he cared, all the things that kiss said that his words couldn't, so many factors of these last few minutes had served to give her hope again. Maybe she wouldn't be alone anymore, maybe he wouldn't need to be as angry anymore. They could help each other, be there for each other...

She was tired of being lonely, her heart couldn't take it anymore, and Haymitch Abernathy was the first person other than the tributes that her heart had ever warmed to since her family had been taken.


	20. Chapter 20

Haymitch's itinerary didn't deviate dramatically over the next few days, he was even more unsure of what to do with himself. He still woke several times every night and then gave up trying to sleep and drunk instead. The nightmares stayed the same, the pain was still the same, nothing changed at night.

Thankfully he wasn't called upon to go out, and Effie wasn't out quite as much either. Save for a stolen kiss or two before she disappeared to bed, Haymitch didn't know what he was supposed to do. It had been so long that relationships may as well have been unwalked territory for him.

He just watched her, his eyes soft but still alert like something was going to leap out from behind the couch and grab her.

The mentor found himself in considerably worse moods when Effie went out and he wasn't with her, the idea of Crane being anywhere near her, even if in reality he wasn't, made him kick something over on more than one occasion. There was no going back on this now, they had to keep...whatever this was, a secret. It was hard enough to hide it from the stylists and he had an idea that Cinna probably suspected something.

That's why he had ended up at the window, swinging an almost empty bottle between two fingers and ignoring the raised eyebrows shot his way as they finally started to leave. Just act exactly the same and no one would suspect otherwise. Except that Effie was late, and that had Haymitch's foot tapping repeatedly, the fingers of his free hand drumming on his knee as he subtly watched the front of the building as best he could.

By the time the shining black car pulled up to the curb, Effie was exhausted. She didn't think she could last another hour without a cup of tea and if she had to wear these horrid heels for any longer than it would take to get upstairs...The driver came around and opened her door and she slipped her feet out gracefully, standing to her full height with a heavy sigh. Naturally, she looked up, dreading the long trek it would take to reach the penthouse flat at the top of the building where District 12 was housed. She only hoped the stylists and everyone else was gone for the day.

Haymitch relaxed slightly when the car pulled up and turned around to lean back against the window, downing the remainder of the amber bourbon and dropping the bottle carelessly to the ground, half on his way to being drunk.

"Thank you, Simmons." She said to the driver, giving him a few coins for a tip. "I'll see you on Monday."

"Very good, miss Trinket. Have a lovely weekend." the balding man responded with a bow, turning and hurrying around the car to leave.

Effie nodded, waving and pick-pocked her way to the elevators where she stepped inside and pressed the button that carried her upward.

The meetings had been horrid, mostly back handed compliments from the jealous escorts about how they never expected Katniss and Peeta to win...and how amazing it was for two tributes to escape the arena. Effie knew what that meant, the poor dears were in for more trouble than just the arena. They'd made the Capitol look foolish, and that was never taken well.

Finally, the elevator came to rest on her floor and the doors slid open. Too tired for her usually hurried steps, Effie sauntered to the door, searching through her purse for the key card to unlock the door and sighing in relief when she was granted entrance. The heels came off instantly and she leaned back against the door with her eyes closed, finally relaxing for the first time that day.

He sobered a little when the familiar tapping of heels, though not as fast and enthusiastic, outside the door caught his ear and took a few steps forward as the door opened and Effie came back in.

It was annoying getting used to the wigs and makeup all over again now that he saw the escort so often without them, she looked a lot nicer without them and he'd attempted to tell her so in his own awkward manner.

"Bad day, princess?"

She heard him before she saw him, his footsteps coming toward her making her let out a sigh that released more of her tension. When her eyes finally opened, she gazed up at him with a tired smile that bordered on pitiful as she nodded. Pushing off the door with her shoulders, Effie sluggishly began work on unpinning her wig, confident that they were alone thanks to his greeting.

The natural look had been difficult, a bigger challenge than she expected, but now she liked it more and more. The wigs and makeup were smothering. Finally, the last pin removed, Effie tugged the pink fluff off her head and dropped it on the counter before stepping forward to hug Haymitch around his waist and rest her cheek against his chest. He was still distant, still awkward around her, and he still stiffened initially at her touch, but Effie always chose to ignore it.

"I thought it would never end." She practically whimpered, closing her eyes and breathing him in.

It surprised her how easily she fell into her new roll as, well, whatever she was to him. The day he kissed her at the table had broken any reservations Effie had with him and she took the gesture as an invitation to hug him whenever she liked. So far he hadn't complained.

Haymitch stiffened instinctively when she hugged him, not used to such familiar contact and he probably wouldn't be for a while, but relaxed enough to put a hand on her shoulder and rub it gently. This would definitely take getting used to. His way of referring to her had changed as well. He still called her the same thing, princess just fitted well. But gone was the sarcastic tone, he meant it genuinely. He actually liked calling her princess.

It was difficult for him to slip into a habit of hugging her when he was sure they were alone, and remained in a state of almost constant tension, as though he was waiting for someone to walk in at just the wrong time.

"Was it Crane again?"

She sighed and released him, not wanting to overwhelm him by holding on too long and rubbed tiredly at the tension in the back of her neck. "Not entirely, he had help..."

A large yawn took over her face with the last word, leaving her looking more tired than before as she hobbled over to put the kettle on.

"Twelve hours of meetings, beginning plans for the Victor tour at the Quarter Quell, planning parties that I had to discuss with the other escorts who will serve as hosts and hostesses...They're not happy that both our tributes...ah...it was just a long day. You don't have to listen to me." She knew how it upset him to hear about her work, about hearing more of how teh Capitol thought and worked than he had to hear with his own two ears.

"Oh, and apparently I'm so very far behind with biological fashion that they all suggested a three page list of improvements to be made to me before the next event." She reached into her pocket and took out a list, dropping it on the counter as she turned to lean against it and cover her face with her hands.

She wouldn't do any biological alterations, she never had and never planned to. That's why she used so many fashion products like wigs and makeup and nails and fake lashes...she didn't want permanent changes.

Haymitch frowned, half reaching out to pull her back when Effie backed off. It was awkward yes, but it was a nice awkward. He felt the urge to kiss away the bags under her eyes, make her look less tired, but before he could move, Effie was in the kitchen.

"Course they don't. It's district twelve, we're not supposed to win anything, we're especially not supposed to beat the Capitol."

His eyes darkened for a moment, considering the irony that two out of three times that his district had been successful had been because they "cheated" and made the Capitol look foolish. Katniss and Peeta would not be getting off lightly with their stunt.

With a grunt he followed her, leaning across the counter to face Effie and pull the list toward him.

"Suggested higher cheekbones? That's just stupid."

Without another thought, Haymitch tore the papers, crumpled them into a ball and threw them over his shoulder. Reaching across to pull her hands away from her face. "If it's worth much, I like your...natural...ness."

She was worried for Katniss and Peeta, more than she let on. Most of the day had been comprised of Effie attempting to defend them without seeming like she was defending them. She tried her best to play up the star crossed lovers story, tried her best to weave a tale of sorrow and hardship to tug at the hearts of her peers, but most of them proved heartless and vain. Effie wanted nothing more than for Katniss and Peeta to be left in peace to live and grow old happily however they chose, but with every passing hour of the day she lost more and more hope of that.

She listened to Haymitch with silent nods, rubbing at her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup. The ruffle of paper made her slide her hands to cup her own cheeks, leaving her eyes free to watch as he read over the suggestions. She smiled a small, grateful smile at his reaction, letting him take her hands and stepping a little closer to him.

"Careful, you might just make me think you find me attractive with talk like that."

Haymitch smirked slightly, he did actually find her quite attractive without all the makeup and wigs, she looked much better. "Never know, would that be so unrealistic?"

This was one of the reasons he despised the Capitol, apparently even their own citizens weren't free here. But then, Effie wasn't like the vast majority of them, she had feelings, she had a heart and she cared about the kids that were sent in to die. The odds of Katniss and Peeta getting away unscathed were all but non existent, if they were lucky, they might get more or less a year before they were targeted,

"There ain't much you can do for 'em, you know. That's just the truth."

She loved it when he tried flirting, when he let himself relax and attempt to enjoy a moment here and there. She so wanted him to be happy, and when he would steal a smirk here or there it made her eyes light up.

"I suppose not," She replied softly, smiling back at him. Her slender fingers curled around his large hands as he held them, warmly running her thumbs over his skin. With a shake of her head, her soft golden curls shook themselves a bit more freely around her neck, loosening after their long confinement under the wig. His voice was gravelly, but somehow comforting as he spoke, but that didn't keep the light from dimming in Effie's eyes. She dropped her gaze a little, letting it rest on their hands and nodded.

"I know..." She all but whispered. "...I just..." she swallowed a lump that suddenly took residence in her throat. "I intend to do anything I can..." Her eyes misted a little, and she blamed her tiredness for letting the next words slip. "They should hate me..."

He cringed slightly when she finished, and squeezed her hands more out of habit than comfort. It was almost true, and anything he could say to contradict her might seem very hypocritical of him, he had hated her for a while, and that was part of the reason. But it wasn't her, it was her job.

"It's your job, princess...you're...different."

He frowned slightly and let his gaze flick back to her free hair, briefly noticing the way her curls bounced on her shoulders before snapping himself back. The odds were that plenty of district citizens did hate her, but like Haymitch, that was hatred largely directed at the Capitol in general.

"I reckon they like you enough, don't...just don't say that."

Effie shrugged, her face still slightly turned away from him. She never wanted the job, never wanted to be part of the Hunger Games, but she wasn't given any choice. She was just a painted servant of the Capitol and each year she felt like more and more of a kidnapper, more and more of a murderer.

But, of course...she couldn't say such a thing out loud. It was bad enough she had been having trouble sleeping the last few days. Who knew when the Capitol might take it upon a whim to bug a place, to spy on people? It was already dangeorus enough that she and Haymitch were together and easily enough found out...all she needed was to say one wrong word that could make her disappear, or get Haymitch hurt.

So, instead of speak more, she nodded again and gratefully tugged away to take the whistling kettle off the red hot eye of the stove. She made a cup of tea and turned to face him again, trying to smile. "Sorry, I'm just over tired. I'll be cheerful again after I rest."

Haymitch frowned, he wasn't satisfied with that, she wasn't going to stop blaming herself, that was pretty clear. He didn't push it though, she'd only get more upset and settled for giving her fingers a light squeeze when she pulled her hands back, silently telling her to stop talking like that.

Padding around the counter softly, she leaned to press a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Come sit with me on the couch a while? We can find a film to watch or something."

Turning his face into the kiss he nodded slowly, fair enough. He could do that, they might as well do something. If it meant Effie was going to stop talking like that, he didn't mind terribly.

"Okay, princess...you look tired though. Should just go sleep."

Watching her back as she slipped around to the couch, Haymitch bit his lip slightly, going around the other way enough to make a detour and fetch a fresh bottle which he dropped at his feet in front of the couch.

Effie lifted her chin, blinking heavily as she sipped her tea, making room for him to join her. He was right, she should probably just sleep but she wanted to spend some time with him first. Not to mention if she slept yet she wouldn't sleep well.

"I will, I just want to relax a little first..." her cheeks tinted a pretty shade of pink, even through the makeup she wore that day. Only here yes had been painted much, she had taken to keeping her cheeks mostly natural, trying to slowly ease off using quite so much makeup for Haymitch's sake, even though he hadn't asked her.

Her eyes dropped bashfully and she cleared her throat a little, knowing it would probably make him uncomfortable but wanting to try anyway. "I, uh...I missed you today."

The five days since they became...were they a couple? She wasn't entirely sure, but they were something and the five days since becoming whatever they were had been awkward, but nice. He wasn't half as angry, and the quiet companionship they had given each other was comforting, nice. It really felt like they were somehow starting to know each other. She liked that he didn't hate her anymore.

Haymitch relaxed slightly, throwing both his arms over the back of the couch, surprisingly more comfortable than he thought he would be with this. He was steadily getting used to sharing his space he valued so much. If anyone else really tried to come as close to him without his consent they'd be hearing a lot from him about it. Effie he didn't mind. She felt...right in some way, it was comfortable being so close to her which was a hell of a lot more than he could have said a week ago.

She thought he was uncomfortable with this, he could see it in her eyes, in the way she always sat close but never touching. She'd hug him, but never for very long unless he was hugging her back. He was fairly uncomfortable for the first few days, it was better now though, and frankly, though he would probably never use the word aloud, Haymitch thought her awkwardness was cute.

He dropped one arm, keeping his expression almost blank and pulled her closer gently, loosely putting his arm around her shoulders. "I'm flattered, princess."

Truth be told, he'd missed her too, he didn't like her being out late without him at all, the empty bottle by the window said that clearly enough.

Whatever tension remained in her body, Effie felt it leave in a smooth rush the moment he tugged her close. Her head rested against his chest, careful to keep her tea balanced so it wouldn't spill. Princess. He said that differently to the thousands of times he used it before.

"You always call me that, but I don't think I've ever heard you use it with anyone else." Her head tilted back to look up at him, a sweet smile playing about her lips. "You use sweetheart, kid, and darlin' a lot for people in general, but I've never heard you actually call anyone else princess."

Her long lashes blinked up at him, "Not that I'm complaining, I only just noticed..."

She liked it when they sat together like this. It was becoming a habit, and when he put his arm around her, or touched her at all she instantly relaxed. He was warm and it seaped into her like sitting next to a fire, it made the tension flee and his solid confidence and strength just made her feel safe. She felt protected when Haymitch was near, and that was something Effie hadn't felt in a very, very long time.

Maneuvering her mug to one hand, she took her free hand and reached up, lacing her fingers very gently and almost cautiously through his where they hung limply at her shoulder.

Hadn't he? Haymitch frowned slightly, trying to remember a time he called someone else princess, to no avail. Effie must be the only one he did, that was unusual, for five years it had just become habit and most of the time he didn't even realize he was saying it, it came out unconsciously.

"Huh...didn't even realize..."

He relaxed more when Effie did, feeling the comfortable weight of her head against his chest. It was nice sitting like this, he could almost forget everything that was happening or had happened. It was just peaceful, something Haymitch rarely felt and intended to keep when he had it.

He glanced down to find her watching him and smiled faintly at the look on her face, she was the same. Effie was far more relaxed when it was just them...and tea, he noticed. There was always tea.

"You look a bit better already...princess."

She closed her eyes, smirking with a pretty blush as he used the pet name again, deliberately this time. Her chin dropped demurely and she snuggled in a little closer, always touching.

"Seems like you're therapeutic." She whispered with a yawn. Her tea was nearly gone, and the way her eyes were drooping Effie wasn't sure she would be able to finish it. "I like your smile," her hand gently squeezed his, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles and leaned forward just enough to set her teacup on the table before settling back in against his chest. Feeling brave, Effie smiled just a little and tugged his arm down around her waist and hugged it.

"See? I'm not so bad, am I?"

Haymitch snorted. Therapeutic, there's a new one, hadn't heard that one before, probably wouldn't again. He turned his cheek slightly, just enough to brush his lips over her hair, inhaling the sell of her shampoo very slightly, hoping she wouldn't notice. Roses. Everything here smelt of roses, but on her he actually liked it.

She wasn't bad at all, she was warm, a welcome distraction. One who was steadily becoming braver by the minutes apparently, not that he minded at all it was more comfortable like this.

The bottle of bourbon near his foot remained untouched as Haymitch let her tug his arm down to wrap around her waist. She wouldn't stay awake much longer, she was almost dozing already.

"You're not bad at all, Effie..."

The victor had a suspicion that within a few minutes she'd be asleep on him and he'd either be left on the couch with a numb right side or have to carry her and try not to wake her, not that he minded either way.

He was right, she was very nearly asleep already. Her fingers absently traced up and down his arm, her nails tickling just barely over his skin. "Neither are you, 'Mitch."

Her words were sleepy, mumbling so only half of his name actually came out as she let her eyes close comfortably.

It was almost too good to be true, and Effie was almost afraid she might be dreaming. If she woke to find things back the way they were her heart might actually break. But for now, she was too tired to think about it and she sighed herself to sleep, her fingers spreading loosely over his arm and her head lulling softly so her cheek rested against his chest.

Chaff was the only person who called him Mitch, the only person he'd known long enough and was close enough to to let him call him Mitch. But he didn't mind it coming from Effie. In fact, he liked it. It was like her version of a pet name for him.

_Pet names? It had been five days...what was wrong with him? _

Sure she was asleep, Haymitch frowned, not the first time he'd wondered what he was doing. What they were doing. Soon enough he'd go back to Twelve and she'd stay here in the Capitol and they wouldn't see each other for six months at the Victor's Tour. At least she'd be safe...there'd be no danger of being found out.

He shook those thoughts away, that didn't matter, it wasn't happening right now, was it? He could be content for the moment, allow himself that much.

Effie's breathing evened out and he felt her fall into a steady sleep, she couldn't stay here all night. He was fine to sleep on couches, hell, he'd literally slept in gutters after a particularly drunken night. Moving slowly, careful not to jostle her, Haymitch slipped around off the couch, keeping his arm around her waist and hooking the other one under her knees.

Proud of himself to make it down the hall and to her room without making a noise, Haymitch pushed the door open gently with a foot and stepped into Effie's room for the first time he had in five years. The clean smell was what hit him first and he nearly laughed aloud at the difference in their rooms. Her's was the exactly opposite of his, much like themselves.

He had her under the blankets relatively easily and as an afterthought, brushed a few curls out of her face before smiling softly and leaving for his own room, retrieving the bottle from the floor first.


	21. Chapter 21

Effie woke the next morning in her bed and she didn't remember getting there. It was a weekend, so there was absolutely nothing to do and the apartment would have no one but Haymitch and herself to occupy it. It would be nice, quiet and nice...or so she hoped. With a stretch and a groan, Effie yawned and got up for the day, smirking at the thought of not wearing makeup or a wig all day. Not ready to find a dress or anything, she simply reached for her robe, threw it on and tied it loosely around her waist.

It was nearly eight o'clock in the morning and she wanted some coffee. There was no hope of Haymitch being awake so early, so she could just wander out like this and not worry about appearances for a couple of hours for once. Slipping silently down the hall, Effie took in the empty rooms, completely still and untouched from the night was right, Haymitch wasn't up quite yet. He hadn't drunk as much as he usually would have and would ordinarily be battling a raging hangover by now, probably with his head under a pillow. He was still asleep.

It wasn't peaceful though, it never was. He was back in the arena, fighting to stay alive. Three careers against him, odds that Haymitch really shouldn't have stood a chance against, and didn't. The man twitched in his sleep, rolling, fully clothed on top of the covers and grunting, his hand slipping under the pillow by instinct.

The nightmare changed. He was forty again, and restrained, shouting and swearing at something he couldn't see. The screams told him what was happening more than his sight did. He knew those screams. No...not her too...

Grey eyes snapped open and he shot up with a feral growl and a shout, slashing blindly and narrowly avoiding cutting his leg open. He wanted nothing more than to be the one who caused the death of Seneca Crane.

Haymitch groaned, dropping his knife onto the bed and running his hands over his face. He crossed one leg under the other and began his usual reassurances. It was just a nightmare, it wasn't true, he could stop that. It wasn't going to happen...it couldn't.

Effie was just finishing a second cup of coffee and placing the mug in the sink. She felt lazy today, not wanting to get dressed just yet and Haymitch was still sleeping as far as she knew. Her fingers brushed over her arms as she hugged herself and smiled, thinking back to last night. He had basically called her pretty, and the look on his face when he tore up that list just warmed her heart.

It was nice, finally having someone that cared. Finally being able to share smiles, and not scowls. She was almost afraid it had been a dream and that when he came out of his room things would be the same as ever.

In his room, Haymitch groaned again and reluctantly rolled his legs off the bed, he had a headache but it was really nothing compared to the hangover that usually plagued him. Why couldn't he just sleep like a normal person? Why did he have to be so...so abnormal?

With a grunt, the mentor stood, glancing around for a slightly cleaner shirt, not that there were any left in his closet, they were all randomly around the room, mostly on the floor. Out of habit he glanced in anyway and cringed at the sight of the two pink shirts he absolutely refused to wear remaining on their hangers.

Tossing the shirt he'd been wearing to the floor at the foot of his bed, Haymitch flicked another up with his foot, more crumpled but a little less stained.

Two minutes later he left the room, unkempt as usual, unshaven, uncombed and shirt loosely untucked. Effie would be up by now, there was no point staying in his room. He was right, she was at the sink, and still in a robe without makeup...that was unusual for her.

"Mornin'..."

Effie had just been washing dishes, a few random ones from the night before and the ones she had used this morning. Softly humming to herself, and up to her elbows in soapy water, she hadn't heard Haymitch coming down the hall until he greeted her. The escort yelped, started, and dropped a plate in the sink with a 'plop'. Water shot up all around her, bubbles landing in her hair and on her nose and the front of her hair dripping wet.

Haymitch shifted slightly, moving to lean over the counter toward her, smirking slightly when she splashed herself. "Odd kinda shower, princess."

She turned, cringing and shaking her arms dry. "...Good morning..." She said, half laughing at herself. "Did you sleep all right? I just remember sitting down with a cup of tea and then I was out."

It was kind of cute watching her washing dishes in her robe, quite far from the Capitol escort side. He smiled to himself at the thought and snapped out of it quickly when she spoke again. Putting all his weight on his arms he hooked one ankle over the other and flicked his eyebrows up for a moment.

"Uh...'bout the same as always...that was me, by the way..." How did he finish that sentence? I took you to bed? Not quite. "I uh...didn't want you sleeping on the couch."

Her nose wrinkled and she half pouted at his teasing while taking a towel to dab at the water dripping around her face. Sticking her tongue out at him, she turned back to finish her chore, listening as he spoke.

He helped her to bed? Really? Her cheeks flushed and a smile tugged at her lips. Twenty-four hours ago he'd have left her sleeping at the table for all he pretended to care. It touched her, that he didn't want to just leave her there. She rewarded him with a bright, sparkly eyed smile over one shoulder,

"Thank you," She said sincerely. "You saved me from a headache. I always get headaches when I sleep on the couch." Turning back to the sink, Effie finished the dishes and set them to dry in the strainer. Drying her hands on the towel she'd just used for her face, the blonde-for-the-weekend girl crossed over to mimic the mentor's perch on the counter, only she faced him nose to nose.

"Are you hungry? I can try to make you something...though to be honest I only ever make toast unless I order in." She cringed with a guilty smile.

" 'm fine, don't really eat in the mornings...not usually up in the mornings at all." Haymitch shrugged, it was true, he was up when he had to be up or battling a migraine in his room.

He secretly liked her smile, he wasn't totally comfortable to outwardly say that yet but he might get there given time. That was a real Effie smile, not a stretched Capitol smile. He liked that she didn't take to wearing contacts with her Capitol outfits either, kept her blue eyes. Good, he liked those too.

He would go back to Twelve soon enough, something he hadn't really thought about, but now it was returning to his mind. That would definitely put a damper on their relationship, but at least it would remain secret? And they had the Victory Tour...in six months.

Pushing those thoughts out of his mind he rubbed his face with one hand and leaned forward quickly to steal a kiss and distract her from seeing those thoughts which may or may not be written in his face. Her breath hitched and her cheeks tinted pink as he leaned in quickly and stole that kiss. Effie had been studying his brow, the lines of his face. He always looked so serious, as if smiling were a foreign concept to him. Blinking, she smiled for them both and straightened.

"Well, that's nice." She laughed softly, bashfully turning her head to one side so her hair fell protectively over her cheeks. After a moment of hiding, she looked back at him, her face lighter, fresh with the happy expression after so many days of tears. "I think I like that better than my morning coffee." Her cheeks flamed red a little more and she kicked herself for it. She was 25 years old, nearly 26 in a month, and yet here she was blushing like a child with her first crush.

"Why don't you come around here and try giving me a proper one?" The blush traveled down her pale neck, tinting her collar bone as she backed away from the counter, clutching her robe closed at her neck. The victor cocked an eyebrow, smirking smugly at the success of his attempt to distract her. Whilst he hadn't believed that he'd been her first kiss at the time, a look at her reactions now made it fairly clear that he was. It was frankly adorable how embarrassed she got. How old was she? He wasn't even sure of the age gap, but it bode well for him if she had no one else to compare kisses to.

"Look at you all bashful, princess. Ain't that cute?"

He leaned off the counter and stepped around, amused at the way she was trying to hide her blush, now stretching down her neck to her collar bone. "And now you're brave."

With an almost arrogant, but quite pleased glint in his eye, Haymitch smirked, closing the gap around the counter and pulling her in for a proper kiss.

He called her cute! He thought she was cute...With a soft and muffled yelp, her hands flattened instinctively over his strong chest as he pulled her up against him. He was a good deal bigger than her, for some reason with her wig and heels she felt big, but like this she felt tiny. The way he was able to pull her to him so easily just accentuated that fact.

Effie had to fight the urge not to back away from him as a grin broke out over her face, letting her sparkling white teeth shine and her big blue eyes glitter. She liked this change, she liked it very much indeed and the urge to hug him was nearly as overwhelming as the fierce red burn in her cheeks.

Blinking up at him, her smile remained, fully aware of how rough he was while touched by how he was obviously being careful of her at the same time. He was smirking, and the look in his eye made her stomach feel flighty. He looked so nice when he smiled, even just a smirk...it made him seem softer, warmer...much better than the severe look he normally wore.

They were both semi-new to this, it seemed, and though Haymitch new more and better than she did, it was obvious he didn't quite know what to do with her and still battled with himself about it in his head. When their lips finally touched, she melted against him, feeling boneless and grateful for his arms around her, laughing quietly as she rested her forehead against his chin when it was over.

"Mm..." She sighed happily. "Yes, I think I like that very much more than coffee." She licked her lips against the after taste of whiskey, to her credit not showing any signs of distaste or disapproval, just that natural and easy Effie smile.

Haymitch growled very lightly when he had her in his grasp, one arm snaking down to hold her waist and his other hand looping its way around to hold her neck as he kissed her properly. He kept reminding himself to be careful with her, she wasn't really used to any of this, and he wasn't either for the most part but he knew a lot more than she did.

To say he didn't enjoy the effect he knew he had on her would be a downright lie, he knew exactly what effect he had and he very much liked it. His own neck burned slightly when they pulled away, resting his chin against her head.

"Well...I should think it's better than coffee, I'll consider that an achievement, sweetheart."

"Aren't you glad I won that last fight?" She teased, slipping her arms around his waist for a hug.

Effie liked the feel of his arms around her, the way he stood over her a head and shoulders taller. She fit right under his chin perfectly. There was a certain relief that came with this new arrangement,

"...I think I can get used to being met with a kiss instead of a glare in the mornings, you're far more handsome when you smirk." She had yet to see an outright smile and put it on her list of things to do. Make him smile properly. His eyes faltered for a moment and he was glad she couldn't see, squeezing back gently. There wouldn't be much getting used to this. He'd go back to Twelve and Effie would stay in the Capitol. A very strained relationship.

"Mm..." He nodded slightly, determined to keep her reassured. If Effie was happy now who was he to discourage that? Not a good man...and he, even though the realization caught him by surprise, he wanted her to be happy.


End file.
